


A Stiles Surprise

by Dextolan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Child Stiles Stilinski, De-Aged Stiles Stilinski, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Good Parent Melissa McCall, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Ignore the timeline, Kid Fic, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Protective Derek, Protective Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Protective Sheriff Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stilinski Family Feels, Witches, cus I have characters from most of the series in here, it doesn’t really correspond with the series, stiles is adorable, toddler Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23409781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextolan/pseuds/Dextolan
Summary: Derek upsets Stiles which inadvertently sends him straight into the arms of a witch.Stiles finds his way back to the pack thirteen years lighter than before.(or Stiles is de-aged to a four-year-old and the pack has to look after him.)
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 65
Kudos: 433
Collections: Teen Wolf





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters.)
> 
> I really shouldn't be starting another story. I have 4 ongoing stories on fanfiction and 2 on here... if anyone reads Don't Know What you Have Until it's Gone then I promise an update will be soon.
> 
> Anyway, I really wanted to write little Stiles so... here we go.

Peter trudged through the woods, looking around half-heartedly for Stiles Stilinski. He didn't know why they were all running around because of Derek's mistake. He was the one who basically told Stiles he was useless and not a member of the pack. Even Peter knew it was untrue. Stiles, although hating to admit it, was a member of the pack, Peter didn't hate the human's scent and he knew Derek definitely didn't hate it. He was also a valuable member of the pack. Questioning his role would be like questioning Scott and Lydia's roles, it was pointless. He was a valued pack member, no question about it.

Peter knew Derek was under stress what with a supposed witch lurking around but he shouldn't make such untrue statements without at least consulting everyone.

So now, Peter was out looking for that little shit because, since walking from the pack meeting the morning before, he hadn't been seen. That included skipping two days of school.

Peter huffed as he kicked up a patch of leaves. He was starting to get annoyed with Stiles now too, why the kid had to have such sensitive emotions was beyond him.

Peter paused at the sound of tussling several meters away. His sensitively tuned ears strained at the sound of leaves under what was likely bare feet. The tree was too light to be Stiles but Peter was bored. He turned and slowly walked in the direction of the sound. He crouched behind a tree, pressing his back to it and listening carefully.

He also heard a soft humming. It was higher in pitch and Peter frowned as the sound grew louder. Just when the sound seemed to be on top of him Peter straightened up and sauntered around the tree. The sight that befell him was not what he'd been expecting.

A very small child was stood there, it had jumped a little at the tall figure stepping out from behind the tree but it looked up curiously.

"Hi," it said, from the petit face and short tufts of hair sticking out from under the much top big red hoodie it was wearing, Peter assumed it was a boy. Although, he decided to mess with the kid a little.

"What's a nice little girl like you doing out here?" he said with his beguiling grin.

The small boy stepped back, folding his arms and looking rather affronted. "I'm not a girl, mister," he said incredulously. He tried to make a more masculine stance and Peter smirked at the emasculating show from such a small kid. "I'm a big boy."

"Oh really?"

The boy nodded firmly, nearly knocking the big hood from his head.

"What are you doing out here? You know it's dangerous right?" Peter feigned a scared expression and glanced around for the boy's parents. The boy also looked around, his own eyes a little more anxious than they'd been before.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "I woke up and this lady, she was a meanie, she taked me here and then she was gone."

Peter frowned. "She vanished?"

"Yea, like magic, poof!" The boy made grabby hands mimicking a 'poof.' He then looked down at his bare feet and twisted the ball of his left foot into the mud. "Now I'm all alone."

"I see that."

"Why are you here, mister?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "I'm an adult, I go where I please."

"Oh. That's cool. I'm a big boy so I can do what I wants," said the boy with a determined little nod.

"Somehow I doubt that very much," muttered Peter. He glanced behind the boy and still seeing no one he rolled his eyes and looked down at the boy.

"And how old are you?" Peter said, leaning down and smiling at the small child in a manner too sickly sweet to be sincere, not that the kid knew any better.

The boy paused, his eyelids squinting in thought and he raised a hand, plucking up three fingers in an analytical way.

Peter watched with one eyebrow raised. "Three?"

The kid frowned and raised his pinky.

"Four?"

He nodded, looking up at Peter with a proud grin. "Yep, I'm four!"

"Could've just said that," Peter muttered gruffly before plastering his face with a false smile.

"Hmm, I see," he said, loud enough for the child to hear this time. He straightened back up, his hands behind his back. He glanced at the half-clothed child, his red hoodie sleeves rolled up to reveal little hands and chubby arms. Peter brushed his hand over the hood, revealing tussled brown hair, little stuck-up ears and a face speckled with a few freckles and moles. "And where did you actually come from? I'm not sure I know the nudist colony you crawled out of."

The boy frowned thoughtfully. "What's a n...nudey?" he asked.

Peter smirked. "Nudist, and its humans like you who like to run around naked... without clothes."

The boy looked down at his oversized hoodie.

"I have clothes," he protested.

"Clearly not your own clothes, little red. Now, what's your name?"

The boy stopped frowning at his hoodie and raised his head to look at Peter critically. He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at Peter. "My daddy says not to trust strangers, and you're pretty strange, mister."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Charming. Well, I don't trust your father."

"You should," the boy said, putting his arms on his hip like a sassy model, draped in odd garments. "H-he's deputy sheriff, ya know."

Peter frowned, bending down to look at the boy who took a step back. Parish was deputy... he couldn't have a son... could he?

"What's your name, kid?"

The boy pouted. "What's yours?"

"Peter. And I asked first."

The boy looked surprised by that answer. "Oh... okay... I-I'm Stiles."

"Wait... what?"


	2. Uncle Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters)
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts in the comments, it means a lot.

Derek felt horrible, he really did. He hadn't meant what he'd said to Stiles but he'd said it anyway and now they couldn't find the teen.

Derek, of course, knew what he said was untrue but maybe he'd pushed Stiles too far this time. Derek rubbed his hands together, trying to reason with himself. The teen was only human after all, Derek didn't want to lead him into an early grave. But at the same time, Stiles was pretty good at leading himself right into trouble, who was Derek to stop him.

Derek paced for several minutes as he waited for someone from his pack to call with good news... or any news. He stayed behind in case Stiles went to the loft first... Derek also knew the pack didn't think he deserved to help. He stopped pacing with a heavy sigh, pulling his phone out to check again when he smelled something stranged.

He paused, turning to the door as Peter's scent started to leak into the soft along with another, oddly familiar smell.

Derek's heart leapt and he started toward the door. Peter cut off his walk by stepping inside, a blisteringly bright grin on his face.

Derek looked at him and then past him.

"Peter? You found him?"

Peter stood by the door, the grin replaced by a thoughtful look. "You could say that," he muttered. Derek scowled and stepped around the couch.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he said, his voice breaching a growl. Peter raised his hands.

"I found him, yes, but, well, he's not technically what he was before," he said. Derek put a hand on the couch to steady himself. This was his fault. Stiles was dead. He knew it. Stiles was dead and he drove him to it.

"Calm down," Peter said, sensing the panic practically emanating from Derek. "He's alive. He's not hurt either."

Derek took a deep breath, ducking his head a little to hide his watery eyes. After a few seconds he looked back up at Peter. He noticed something then that he hadn't before: there was a small hand wrapped around Peter's leg and a head peeking out around it.

"Stiles," Peter said, addressing the child. "This is Derek. You an call him uncle Derek if you like."

Derek glanced briefly at the child before looking back at Peter. "This isn't funny," he said, his face a deadpan.

Peter smirked. "Oh, how I wish it was, then I could take credit, but alas this was not my work and this _is_ Stiles."

"I'm not playing games with you, Peter."

"Neither am I."

Derek looked back down at the child who was looking between them, not sure what to do. Derek sighed and asked, "what's your name?"

The boy turned and gave Derek a mischievous smile. "Stiles," he said. Derek rolled his eyes and glared at Peter, folding his arms as he did.

Peter raised his hands again. "What?"

"Well done for teaching him what to say. Take him back to whether you stole him from and then help us actually look for Stiles."

The small boy was looking back at Peter now. "What does he mean, mister?"

Peter watched as Derek turned his back, pulling out his phone. Peter knelt down and grabbed Stiles' shoulders, turning him to face Derek's back. "Tell uncle Derek your _real_ name, Stiles."

Stiles tilted his head back to give Peter a confused look before he looked at the muscular man's back. "It's something really long, only mummy and daddy can say it. I just say Mischief. Daddy says that it's ir-ironic... I-I don't know what that means."

Peter was grinning when Stiles had finished speaking because as the boy spoke Derek had stopped playing with his phone. His shoulders had grown tense and his head was raised as he stared ahead of him in shock. He'd seen stiles' real name before, he could barely read it let alone pronounce it.

"Believe me yet?" Peter asked. Derek spun around and moved closer to Stiles. He bent down so he was looking closely at the boy. The kid's heart hadn't skipped a single beat.

"What's your dad's name?" Derek murmured.

Stiles' small face broke into an affectionate smile. "His name is Noah, a-and my mummy is called Claudia! My bestest friend in the whole wide world is Scott! His mummy makes us brownies when we has slumber parties. We go to daycare together! I'm Batman and Scott's Robin, but sometimes I let Scott be Batman Cus he can'ts always be Robin and-"

Derek put his hand over the hyperactive child's mouth.

He met Peter's smug gaze. "What happened?"

* * *

Derek sat down opposite Peter on the couch while they watched the small boy on the floor. Derek had given him the last of him two slices of bread from his nearly empty cupboard. He also had a jar of peanut butter which Stiles had snatched from him before he could spread it on the bread.

Stiles sat with the jar between his splayed little legs, covered only by his lengthy red hoodie and a pair of Derek's old gym shorts (they'd used Derek's robe tie to hold it all together.) Stiles was carefully pulling off the crusts on his bread and lining them up on the floor before eating the white part of the bread. He occasionally dipped his fingers into the peanut butter and when he wasn't eating it he was using it as paint on the floor, along with the crusts. He'd already made what was apparently meant to be Derek and was attempting to construct Peter's face with what was left.

"Ooo, that's not gonna be fun to clean up," Peter said after glancing up from his phone. Derek shrugged.

"He seems happy," he muttered.

Peter chuckled. "You're terrible at childcare. You let them do naughty things and they learn bad habits. You have to treat them like dogs. See, watch me." Peter cleared his throat, catching Stiles' attention. The boy had one finger in his mouth which he was sucking peanut butter off, some of which he'd managed to get in his hair. "Stiles, no. Bad boy," Peter said.

Stiles' finger dropped from his mouth and he looked to Derek. His bottom lip trembled as he looked down at the portraits he'd made. "I-It's you mister Peter," he said quietly, his watery gaze landing on Peter.

"Well it's dirty. And naughty."

A single tear fell from Stiles' eye and his bottom lip poked out.

"Look what you did," Derek said, getting up from the couch.

"Whoops," Peter said with a shrug. "Uncle Derek can fix it."

"You can stop calling me that."

"I don't think I will."

"I wasn't asking," Derek shot back and he turned away from Peter and approached Stiles.

Stiles watched him as another tear rolled down his cheek before the other eye let out two more. "T-that ones you... I-I-I didn't mean to m-make a m-mess." Stiles sniffed, more tears falling.

Derek looked down at the mess and attempted a smile. "Wow," he said, feigning as much excitement as he could. "They're so good, Stiles."

"I want my mummy... where's my mummy?"

Derek sighed and took the jar from Stiles, setting it on the couch. "They're busy... working," Derek said. The boy seemed to buy it. He started to wipe his eyes and he nodded. Derek wondered if Stiles had been used to his parents being absent when he was young, the sheriff always seemed to have a lot on his plate.

"How about we do more pictures?" Derek said. Stiles eyes lit up, nearly eclipsing the redness around them.

"Yea!"

Derek glanced back at the kitchen. He had a couple of pens in a drawer and he was sure Stiles had left a notepad somewhere.

"Wait here," Derek said, "I'll go get some paper."

Stiles nodded, crossing his legs and turning away from his bread and peanut butter portraits. He caught Peter's eyes and he turned his head away quickly. Peter chuckled; it looked like he'd gone from Stiles' best friend to his enemy rather quickly.

Derek grabbed two black pens from the drawer, it being the only colour he had. One was fat, and likely used for whiteboards, something the rest of the pack knew about since Derek wasn't much of a planner. The other was just a simple writing pen, the end slightly chewed. Derek scoured the counter for the notepad.

He didn't find it in the kitchen so Derek went back to the couches where Stiles was waiting for him patiently. He gave him the pens and glanced toward his bedroom.

"I'll go get you paper now, wait here okay?"

Stiles nodded, grabbing the pens with his tiny fist. Derek marvelled at how big his hands were compared to the child. He got up and hurried to his room. He moved his covers around before glancing around the floor. He finally found a ruffled little notebook in the bedside table and he went back to give it to Stiles.

Derek walked around the couches and stopped dead in his tracks. He glanced at Peter since he was the only one there. "Where's Stiles?"

Peter pointed, without looking to the far windows. Derek followed his finger and saw Stiles leaning against a window, his tongue stuck out as he doodled on the glass.

"Stiles, no!" Derek called, dashing toward the boy as Peter laughed.

"What did I tell you?" he chuckled.

* * *

Derek managed to gently pry Stiles from the window and make him sit on the floor with his pens and paper instead. He wiped away the doodles easily as well as the peanut butter and crust mess from before. By the time he'd finished all of that he remembered that the rest of his pack were still searching for Stiles.

Derek glanced at Stiles who was lay on his stomach, his legs up in the air behind him as he swapped between pens and tore each new drawing out, placing it in a circle around him. He shook his head fondly and walked toward the couch to grab his phone.

"Someone text you," Peter muttered from behind his book.

"What?"

Peter dropped his book and just smirked at Derek as he snatched up his phone.

"You could have told me."

Peter shrugged, resuming his book.

Derek checked his phone and found a message from Scott fifteen minutes before.

'Have news. Be @ yours soon.'

Derek looked over at Stiles who had his tongue out as he cautiously drew a circle, his entire fist around the pen. He wondered what news could be more important than the child in Derek's care.

So Derek just sent back, 'me too.' He dropped his phone back on the couch and listened out for the rumbling of a bike or car outside. He was hoping they'd bring his car back as clean as they'd taken it. Stiles' jeep was still out there waiting for him.

Derek only had to wait another four minutes when Scott's bike rumbled to a stop outside. Derek moved to the door, shielding Stiles from view since he was going to be a shock discovery to the younger wolves.

Unfortunately for Derek, who hadn't been paying attention, he felt a small tug at his shirt. He looked back to see Stiles looking up at him hopefully.

"I'm hungry, Derek," he said, holding his small middle as if it were shrivelling up.

"Hold on-"

The door handle moving interrupted Derek and he turned back toward the sound.

"Derek! We found his phone!" Scott stumbled through the doors, picking himself up quickly and bolting toward Derek. He held his hand high in the air, a celllphone crushed in his palm. Stiles hugged Derek's leg, jumping behind him when he realised how fast Scott was moving.

"I found-"

Scott stopped when he got close, looking down at the child hiding behind Derek. Scott looked up at Derek, his brow heavy with a frown.

"Derek," he hissed. "We're looking for Stiles. What the hell have you been doing and where-" Scott looked down at the kid and leaned closer. "-Where the hell did you get a kid from?"

Before Derek had a chance to reply the door was flung open again and Alison walked in, looking a little flustered from following Scott.

“I’m going to explain everything,” Derek said slowly, his hand on Stiles’ shoulder for comfort. “You just need to-“

“Stiles was turned into a child,” Peter interrupted bluntly much to Derek’s annoyance who’s lip curled to reveal fangs at Peter.

Scott just stood staring at Peter before his eyes slowly fell to the small child. “Stiles?” he mumbled.

Allison nudged Scott’s arm, her scowl also set on Peter. “That’s a cruel trick,” she snapped. “C’mon Scott, he’s messing with you.”

“Am I? Why don’t you ask uncle Derek,” Peter said before lifting his book again and ignoring the teens.

“Derek?” Scott looked at the older wolf who had tightened his grip on the bewildered child.

“He’s right,” he said and he gently guided Stiles in front of him. “The witch must have gotten to him first, I don’t know what else it could be.”

Stiles looked up at Derek’s pained expression.

“Where did you find him?" Scott asked and Allison rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder harder.

"Scott, you can't be serious?"

"Then who is that!?" Scott said, pointing at the child who was trying to turn and get behind Derek's leg.

Allison looked at the boy and shook her head. "It... it's ridiculous," she said. "This isn't funny. Stiles is still missing."

"Oh, it is ridiculous," Peter said in his calm drawl. He set down his book and turned from his seat on the couch. "It's ridiculously hilarious. And what's funnier is that _is_ Stiles. He's gone from sarcastic, annoying know it all to-" Peter looked down at the boy who was pouting back at him. "Well, he's still annoying but at least the old Stiles could use the toilet."

"I can go potty!" Stiles shouted indignantly, folding his arms and glaring at Peter.

Peter laughed and clapped twice. "He's potty trained, how delightful." He turned to look at Scott then. "I found him," he said, putting his hand over his chest. "Trust me, I wasn't actively looking, he walked into me, told me he was lost and told me his name was Stiles."

Scott looked at Allison, shifting from foot-to-foot nervously. "What other kid could be called Stiles?" he mumbled. Allison stood there in silence for a moment before breaking into a grin.

"Really, Scott? That's your first thought? Peter is lying!"

"That's a harsh assumption."

"Not when we're talking about you," Allison shot back. "I don't think you _can_ tell the truth."

Peter pursed his lips, nodding in agreement before shrugging and turning away from them.

Allison grabbed Scott's arm and started pulling him back to the door. "C'mon, Scott, leave these clowns to have their fun."

Stiles heard his friends name that time and he stopped glaring at Peter's head and he watched after the teenagers curiously.

"Scotty?" he said. Scott pulled away from Allison who had also stopped by the door.

Scott stared at the boy. Those features were so familiar. The slightly upturned nose, the smattering of freckles. Scott blinked slowly and knelt down, shuffling closer to the boy.

"Stiles?" Scott asked and the boy smiled toothily.

"Are you Derek's friend?" the boy asked and he hopped back to Derek, his back against Derek's legs. "Derek's my friend," he said as he tilted his head to look up at Derek. "And Scotty's my bestest friend ever! We're gonna have proper adventures one day... I should have brought him with me!"

Allison let the door go and it clanged in the silence left by the boy's excited chatter. She stared, her mouth agape, at the four-year-old. Peter was smirking from where he was sat on the couch.

Scott was also just staring at the boy. "Stiles," he mumbled. "It's me, it's Scott."

Stiles stopped watching Derek (who wasn't too pleased with constantly being stared at,) and he frowned at Scott.

"You're not Scott. You're too tall. Scott's my height, he thinks he's taller but I don't think so." Stiles shook his head.

Scott looked up at Derek who was looking a little guilty.

"We're going to have to find a way to explain this all to him."


	3. Slumber Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf)
> 
> Hi guys. The past two years haven't been the best. Things keep happening and... I don't know. Last week my great grandmother passed away.
> 
> There's nothing else I can really do other than continue writing. I may take breaks from some stories to do assignments and have some time to myself.
> 
> I know this is a relatively new story but I thought I'd update you in case I do go on a brief hiatus.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed or reviewed. Right now that means more than you could imagine.
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read that. Enjoy the chapter.

Explaining to a four-year-old-Stiles was easier than anyone expected. They'd told him that he'd somehow walked into a time machine that had taken him to the future. The boy only needed to see Scott's phone to believe them. He also believed Scott was the Scotty he kept raving about and that mummy and daddy were at home, just a little older, like Scott. They didn't break the child's spirit by telling him that his mother was dead. Scott, Allison and Derek silently agreed keeping this secret was in everyone's best interests, especially since Stiles was such a bubbly child.

Scott offered to take Stiles home since he had a house better equipped than Derek's for just about anything.

Derek sent texts to the pack letting them know they'd found Stiles and that he was fine. He added that they needed a pack meeting the next morning to discuss a 'situation.' He didn't want to worry anyone so he left it at that.

* * *

Scott glanced at Stiles in the back seat. The boy was playing with his seat-belt, his legs swinging back and forth.

"You okay, Stiles?" Scott called. Stiles looked up and grinned.

"Yep, Scotty. We're having a slumber party right?"

Scott laughed. "Yea, man. Like old times..." Scott smiled at the rearview mirror. In fact, he and Stiles still had 'slumber parties' they just didn't call them that anymore.

"Do you have snacks? Has your mummy got pizza? I love pizza, Scotty, my favourite-"

"Is barbecue chicken, I know what you like, Stiles," Scott said, finishing little Stiles' sentence. "I guess we could get pizza," he added with a shrug.

Stiles beamed at the back of Scott's head. "Can we play games too? Oh oh, and a movie! Please, Scott!"

"Calm down, dude, I promise you can watch a movie, alright." Scott was going through pizza prices in his head. He liked barbecue chicken almost as much as Stiles and since he was only four, surely Stiles wouldn’t eat more than three pieces which meant Scott could have the rest.

When they got to his place Scott parked the jeep a little haphazardly on the driveway before going around to the back and unbuckling Stiles.

Stiles smirked and held up his small hands toward Scott. "Carry me?" he said, half-asking, half-demanding, while he held an adorably sweet expression on his face.

Scott just shook his head and complied to the boy's demands.

Scott shut the door behind Stiles, knowing he couldn't put the kid down since he was gripping his shirt too tightly.

"Why've you got my mummy's car?" Stiles asked, looking over Scott's shoulder and back at the jeep.

"Um." Scott glanced at the vehicle and back at Stiles, straining his neck to look back at the small face that was too close to his.

"That's mummy's jeep," Stiles repeated, pointing a finger at the old car with a smile. "It's my favourtist car in the whole world."

Scott started walking to his front door, fumbling one-handed for his keys.

"Well," he said, slotting the key into the lock. "This is the future remember."

Stiles paused thoughtfully and nodded.

"So... your mum-"

The door opened and Scott stepped in, praising the distraction for a moment to think. He set Stiles on his feet as he turned back and locked the door, flicking the light on before he did.

"Your mum... uh, she gave you the car."

Scott nodded to himself. It wasn't a lie. Claudia would have wanted Stiles to have it, hence why he owned it now, despite Claudia not actually being able to bequeath the car to him before her death.

Stiles was bouncing on his toes excitedly, his hands clasped under his chin.

"Really?" he whispered, following after Scott as he walked into the kitchen.

"Really," Scott said, turning back and smiling at his small best friend.

Stiles put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow at Scott, making himself look pretty sassy. "Really really?" the little boy said.

"I'm not lying, Stiles."

Stiles pursed his lips together and struggled up onto one of the dining chairs. Once he was sat down he watched Scott with an analytic gaze. "Why would she give me her car? It's the bestest car ever a-and she really likes it."

"Well... she has a new car."

Stiles' eyes widened. "No way!"

"Yep, its amazing, man. It looks like the batmobile."

Stiles stood up on the chair, his body seeming to vibrate with excitement.

"That's so cool! I wanna see it!" Stiles tried to hop off the chair but Scott grabbed him with his quick reflexes.

"How about... pizza?"

Scott thanked God when Stiles squeaked in delight as if this was the best day of his life.

"Pizza!" As soon as Stiles was back on the floor his little legs were pumping and he vanished into the hall.

"And we're having a slumber party, remember?" Scott called, grabbing a menu from a kitchen drawer, despite already knowing their order, and hurrying after Stiles into the front room.

"And a movie!" Stiles yelled as he flung himself onto the couch. He got to his knees uneasily, his body swaying from his lack of balance and weight. Once on his feet he started bouncing.

"This is gonna be so much fun!"

"Uh... careful," Scott said, eying how close to the edge Stiles was. He couldn't afford to take Stiles to the hospital where his mum would be. She'd ask too many questions.

Stiles just kept bouncing, giggling each time he lost his balance and fell into the cushions before struggling back up to do it again.

Scott sat on the couch arm and wearily pulled out his phone, his eyes still trained on Stiles, even after he dialed their favourite pizza place.

Once he was done, Scott decided enough was enough and he grabbed Stiles mid-bounce. The boy squealed happily, kicking his legs and laughing.

"Weeeee! Again, Scotty!"

"No, we need to find you some real clothes... what are you wearing?" Scott looked at the child sitting on his hip. Stiles also looked down before grinning back at Scott.

"Gucci," he said sarcastically. Scott couldn't help laughing.

"Shut up, dork."

"Nu-uh! You're the dork!"

Scott snickered at the childish response, not that little-Stiles could help it.

He walked into his mum's room and set Stiles on the bed, which, unlike his, was actually made. Scott opened his mum's closet and started rummaging in the built in space on top where he knew his mum kept his baby clothes.

"Scotty! You can't go into your mummy's closet!" Stiles glanced at the door nervously. He put his hands around his mouth and whispered, "you might gets in trouble."

Scott wrenched his head back as he found a box labeled 'Scott 4-6 years.' "Not if we don't tell. No telling, Stiles."

Though Scott didn't see it, the four-year-old nodded solemnly, muttering "secret," to himself.

Scott found a pair of his old pyjamas with a monkey on the front, proclaiming the wearer to be a 'cheeky monkey.' The writing and monkey had faded considerably, but once Stiles was in them he beamed down at himself proudly.

Scott pulled out a plain sweater and some jeans from the box for the next day before hiding it away in his mother's closet.

Scott then sat the boy in front of the TV with a kid's movie he'd found on Netflix while he answered the door and paid for the pizzas.

When Scott finally sat down with a plate in his hands, his fingers reaching for pizza Stiles started to whine.

"What?" Scott asked, grabbing a piece of pizza and taking a bite before whatever was wrong with Stiles stopped him.

"Where's the Curley fries, Scotty?" Stiles lifted up a slice of pizza and peered under it. He scowled across the coffee table, searching for a box of fries.

"I didn't get any, buddy. We have pizza."

Stiles turned around, his mouth wide open, his expression aghast. "No Curley fries!?" He put his hand on his hip. "Silly, Scott. You always have Curley fries."

Scott chuckled. "What with?"

"Everything!" Stiles retorted as if it was obvious.

"Well I didn't get any, just eat your pizza."

Stiles pouted but reached forward and took a slice of pizza. He stuck the end in his mouth, getting sauce along the sides of his mouth and his cheeks. Scott snorted with his own mouth full as Stiles looked up innocently, his face a mess of sauce.

"What?" Stiles said, his mouth full of pizza.

"Nothing," Scott said with a smile. "Just watch the movie."

* * *

'Bedtime,' as Stiles kept calling it, was much easier than Scott had been expecting. Stiles had begged to be carried to bed but once the boy was tucked into one side of Scott's double bed (a barrier of pillows keeping him from rolling onto the floor,) he was asleep.

Scott went back downstairs and cleaned up the pizza and shut off the title screen on their movie. He got back upstairs to see Stiles slightly stretched out but still fast asleep.

It was Derek that nearly gave him a heart attack. "Jesus!" Scott hissed, clutching his chest as he Derek emerged from the corner of the room.

"Your wolf senses need improvement," Derek muttered as he walked closer to Stiles and looked down at the child.

Scott shook his head and let out a shaky breath. "I've been pretty stressed lately, Derek. I-I don't need you scaring the hell out of me right now. W-what did you climb through the window?”

They both glanced at the window. Derek shrugged. “You and Stiles have a habit of leaving your windows open.”

Scott opened his mouth to argue but Derek was quick to shut him down with a finger on his lips. He pointed to the still sleeping Stiles.

"Sorry... I had to... check on him. How's he been?"

Derek reached forward and placed a hand on Stiles' forehead. He couldn't sense any pain, the boy seemed quite relaxed actually.

"He's fine," Scott said, coming over and glancing at Stiles. "He's _exactly_ like he was when he was four. It's so weird."

Derek nodded, retracting his hand from Stiles' head and watching him for another moment, Scott would go as far as to say the older wolf's expression was fond. Derek looked at Scott through the darkness. "We'll talk about this at the pack meeting. If it is the witch, and I'm fairly certain it is, then Stiles will be like this longer than I'd hoped. We need to discuss who he can stay with."

Scott chewed his lip. "Not Peter."

"Not Peter," Derek agreed. "Come earlier tomorrow if you can. We can go shopping... or we can send Lydia and Allison shopping after the meeting to get more suitable clothing."

"You know Lydia is going to hate this. I'm pretty sure she doesn't like children," Scott said. He looked at Stiles. The youngster had such a peaceful look on his adorable little face that he didn't know how anyone couldn't like him. His mum used to say Stiles had a baby-face, even when he got older, and now the kid really did look like a baby. Scott knew his mum would fuss over the kid.

"Maybe she has a motherly instinct, I don't know. But the whole pack is going to have to suck up any issues they might have with looking after children. Everyone will be helping."

"Uh thanks... because I'm definitely not cut out for this," said Scott.

Derek looked once more at Stiles to double-check he was fine before he turned back toward the window. "Don't feed him after midnight," Derek said as he climbed into the window.

Scott laughed quietly. "W-Was that a joke? He's not a gremlin, Derek."

"They're cute... until they're not." Derek shrugged and ducked through the open window. Scott watched him go.

Looking after a four-year-old couldn't as hard as than looking after a gremlin, could it?

* * *

"Scott? Scotty!? Come on sleepy bones, we has to wake up! I'm hungry!"

Scott groaned, rolling onto his other side and squeezing his eyes shut, his warm pillows tempting him back into sleep. A sharp sting erupted against his shoulder and Scott's eyes opened into his pillow. He glanced back through narrowed eyelids to see a four-year-old standing over him, his small hands holding onto Scott to keep balance. Scott closed his eyes for another moment before realising what was happening. He sat up suddenly, grabbing Stiles by the shoulders.

"Yay! Breakfast!" Stiles said as he was squished by Scott’s strong hands, he giggled wickedly.

"What time is it?" croaked Scott, his eyes roaming lazily for his clock.

"It's breakfast time, Scotty," Stiles replied helpfully. Scott looked back at the small boy. Stiles’ normally neat hair was still flat and much longer than his normal cut but with the added tousle of bed-hair. Scott blew on the hair, making it part in the middle while Stiles closed his eyes tightly and crinkled his little nose.

Scott let Stiles go and the child crawled across the bed, snatching up Scott's phone while Scott rubbed his hands up and down his face.

"Woah," Stiles said as he held the phone. "Your future stuff is so cool," he said. Scott glanced over and snatched the phone from Stiles which caused the boy to whine.

Scott checked the time. 7.13 am. There were also several messages from the pack. Scott shut his phone off without reading them, his eyes wandering to Stiles instead.

Stiles had his bottom lip stuck out, still sulking about the phone.

"Okay," Scott said, collecting himself. "We have lots of uh... _fun_ things planned today, does that sound cool?"

Stiles looked up from the phone and nodded.

"Cool, alright, uh... alright okay..." Scott looked around his room for a moment before his eyes fell on the bathroom. "I need a shower. Can you stay here while I do that? I won't be long and then we can have breakfast."

Stiles looked toward the bathroom and then down at his tummy. He really was hungry... he shouldn't have to wait for big Scott... he wasn't in charge of him. Stiles' eyes then fell to Scott's discarded phone. He pointed at the device.

"I wanna play on that while you shower."

Scott glanced at his phone and then at the eager look on Stiles' face. He picked up his phone. What was the harm Stiles could do? The phone was passcode protected anyway.

"Alright," Scott said, throwing the phone toward Stiles so it landed on the duvet. "Knock yourself out. I'll be out really soon, just don't leave."

Scott got up from the bed as Stiles dived forward and grabbed the phone. Scott glanced around his room one last time, eyeing Stiles who was already engrossed in his phone before he stepped into the bathroom.

Stiles realised within a few seconds that he couldn't so much on the phone as it kept asking for a four-digit code and he'd already tried 1234. Stiles did however managed to find an icon that looked like a camera and he discovered what a selfie was... 53 times in fact. The shower turned on as Stiles started getting bored of taking photos of his face, even after holding his finger on the button.

Stiles dropped the phone and slid off the bed, glancing around the room for something fun. It was then that Stiles' stomach grumbled again and Stiles looked desperately at the closed bathroom door.

"Scott's not in charge of me," he said to himself as he remembered the older teen's words of warning.

It didn't take much more convincing for Stiles to find himself in the pantry, climbing one of the low shelves to reach the pop-tarts which were still where they'd always been. Stiles wondered why the future didn't seem so different to before.

Stiles accidentally knocked the box down but he climbed down after it, setting the box on the low shelf and taking a pack.

Stiles walked out of the pantry, kicking it shut behind him as he tore into the pack of pop-tarts. He didn't mind eating them cold. He'd save one so Scott could put it in the toaster for him. Stiles walked toward the kitchen counters, taking a big bite of pop-tart.

"Mmmm," he murmured, pulling the pop tart all the way out of its wrapping and taking off the corner with his teeth. He stepped out from behind the counters just as someone walked into the kitchen. Stiles noticed the shadow and looked up, too involved with his scavenged breakfast to wonder if this shadow wasn't Scott.

Melissa nearly fell over when she saw Stiles. She dropped the bag she'd been holding and Stiles watched while he chewed as two apples rolled out and down the hall.

Stiles took another bite and wiped his one hand on the old pyjama pants. Melissa was still gaping at him. Stiles smiled up at Melissa, half a pop-tart in his mouth.

"Hi, Melissa!"

* * *

Scott got out of the shower and pulled on underwear and shorts before hurrying out, flicking his wet hair out of his eyes.

"Right, you ready for breakfast, Stiles?" Scott pushed his door open and his feet came to a stop. The bed was empty. The covers were slightly ruffled from where Stiles had been. "Crap," Scott whispered, grabbing his top from the bed before hurtling out of the room. He basically jumped the entire stairs and turned on the balls of his feet. "Stiles!" he yelled, banging through the kitchen door.

Scott came to another abrupt stop just inside the kitchen. His t-shirt slipped through his fingers and onto the floor.

Stiles, quite happily perched on Melissa's hip, broke into a huge smile. "Scotty!" he cried, reaching forward. Melissa pulled him back against her chest, her gaze burning on Scott.

"Mum... I thought you weren't back until lunch," said Scott, his hand coming up to scratch his head.

Stiles, who was just being his perky self and was still upset that Melissa had taken his pop tart away, looked between the two McCalls. He just wanted to watch cartoons, Scott had promised _lots of fun_.

Melissa exhaled deeply, her gaze unwavering as she shifted Stiles. "You had better start explaining," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I know not much has happened but I'm just enjoying writing hyperactive child Stiles. I hope some of you got the little vine reference.
> 
> Please leave a review and let me know what you thought.
> 
> See you soon.


	4. Light-up Sneakers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters)
> 
> Thanks you for your lovely reviews so far.
> 
> If you like Supernatural I’d really appreciate you checking out my story ’Stuck in the Impala.’ It’s an entry for the Quarantine Writing Contest. it would mean the world if you guys enjoy it enough to vote for me. Details are on the story (in my profile.) 
> 
> Please take a moment to leave your comments, I know it doesn't seem like much but they really help. Let me know what works and what doesn't. Thank you.

"Mum... I-I can explain," Scott said, holding his hands in the air as if his mum was holding a gun instead of four-year-old Stiles with half a pop-tart in his hand.

"Look, Scotty, I found your mummy. She said she'll make us brownies!" Stiles beamed at Scott before taking a clumsy bit of his pop-tart, dropping crumbs down his front and onto the floor.

"Careful, Stiles Sweetie," Melissa said distractedly, dusting the crumbs off her arm. Scott opened his mouth to try and defend himself some more when he realised what his mum said.

"You know it's him?"

Melissa glared at her son. "Of course I do. I'd know if it was you at this age. But that's beside the point, Scott. What the hell have you done?"

Stiles put his hands over his ears, crumbling the pop-tart a little more. "Melissa said a bad word," he whispered as if someone was listening to them.

Melissa and Scott ignored the boy's antics, staring at each other instead.

"This obviously has something to do with... you know..." Scott motioned to himself awkwardly.

"Yes I know that, Scott. I knew this was something to do with you lot when I realised _this_ was Stiles," Melissa said, her scowl even heavier now.

Stiles piped up again, his fingers getting stickier with each bite. "I time-travelled, Melissa," he said proudly.

"You did what?" Melissa glanced at Stiles and then up at Scott who was shaking his head, his fingers on his lips.

"That's right, Stiles," Scott said slowly, keeping his eyes locked with his mother as if communicating something to her through his stare. "I'll explain later, okay, mom? All you need to know right now is that Stiles is well... small."

Melissa opened her mouth to argue again but her eyes drifted slowly to Stiles who was grinning at the last of his pop-tart which he finally gobbled up. She realised that this Stiles still thought he had a mom. He had so much hope and wonder and in his beaming expression, sprinkled in pop-tart crumbs, Melissa recognises his untarnished innocence. She realised what her son was protecting him from.

Melissa nodded slowly, her eyes rising back to her son.

"Alright," she said.

Scott stared back at her in disbelief. "Alright?"

Melissa rolled her eyes. "Yes, Scott. But you had better explain to me later. Does his dad know?"

Scott looked away, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"Scott?" Melissa said sharply.

"Not yet. Don't worry about that. We're having a pack meeting later and then we'll tell the sheriff."

Melissa eyed her son wearily. "Fine," she said finally and she stepped forward and handed Stiles to Scott. Scott fumbled for the boy who was quite content, clambering into Scott's arms.

"We need to go shopping. Let me shower and we'll go."

"Shopping?" spluttered Scott. "Why do we need to go shopping?"

"To get Stiles some proper clothes." Scott opened his mouth to argue but Melissa interrupted him. "Not your old clothes, Scott. They're falling apart."

With that Melissa grabbed her purse shot Stiles one last affectionate smile before going upstairs.

Scott and Stiles watched her go before Stiles looked back at Scott.

"I told you she'd be mad if you went in her closet," he said. Scott just sighed with a smile.

* * *

Scott was made to sit in the backseats to watch Stiles. Melissa had managed to dredge up an old car seat from somewhere and Scott was eerily surprised by how familiar it was to see the small box-like seat, so much so a small hint of jealously flared up inside him when he saw Stiles in it.

They got to the store and Melissa turned and smiled sweetly at Stiles.

"You ready to go in, sweetie?"

Stiles nodded and reached awkwardly for his belt buckle. He struggled for a moment before looking up pleadingly at Melissa.

Melissa shot Scott a scowl. Scott raised his hands and eyebrows defensively.

"Help him!"

Scott glanced at Stiles who was pouting as he tried to squish the button to release his belt.

"Oh right, sorry..."

Scott reached over and unbuckled Stiles.

"Thanks, Scotty! Let's go!"

Melissa rolled her eyes at Scott and got out of the car while Scott watched after her sheepishly.

She walked around and opened Stiles' door. Stiles jumped out and started marching toward the entrance when Melissa grabbed him and lifted him into her arms. She turned to Scott, not noticing the way Stiles stared hopefully at the ground.

"I'll go get a cart," she said as Scott nearly tripped out of the car. Stiles looked up from the ground and his head twisted around in search of the carts.

"Awesome," he said, when he spotted them. "Scotty push me?" he asked with a sweet smile and a flutter of his eyelashes.

Scott sighed, rolling his eyes before he mumbled a ”fine.”

Melissa lifted Stiles up and deposited him in the small cart-seat. Then, with a gracious grin, she handed the cart-handles to Scott, who was avoiding Stiles' beaming eyes and cheeky smile.

After Scott took control of the cart, denying Stile’ pleas to ’go faster,’ they stepped inside and Melissa guided them all toward the clothing section. Stiles stopped beaming at Scott and craned his neck around to look for the toys, wherever they may be. Instead he was faced with the sight of hangers of clothes baring down on him. He leaned his head back and whined quietly as Melissa pulled some things off. Her hands were eagerly picking through the tiny outfits. She couldn't remember the last time she'd done this with the intent of buying.

Stiles was craning his neck trying to look at the toys they'd passed at the entrance.

"Did you see those guns, Scotty?" Stiles asked, pointing to a shelf of nerf guns.

"No guns," Melissa said absently as she pulled off a pair of jeans from the rack.

Stiles pouted, watching Scott with a hopeful look in his eyes. Melissa plucked another pair of jeans down and held them up to Stiles before nodding and throwing them into the cart.

"Daddy has a gun," Stiles said, still pushing the nerf gun idea onto Melissa. She smiled at him before turning and picking out a couple of colourful shirts.

"Your daddy needs one. You don't." Melissa laid the t-shirts next to Stiles as he scowled and folded his arms.

"You sound like mummy," he grumbled and Melissa paused, her hand on a blue duffle-coat. She glanced back at Stiles and tried her best to smile.

"She w... she _is_ a wise woman, sweetie. If you're good we can get you some candy, bit no more talk of guns. Deal?"

Stiles' frown instantly fell away in place of a grin. "Awesome!"

Scott looked over at his mum. "Can I get some candy?"

Melissa eyed her son with a smirk. "Are you being good?"

Stiles and Scott exchanged a look before both nodding. Melissa laughed, throwing a sweater into the cart. "Fine. But you need to help me. Grab some underwear."

Scott made a face but Melissa just raised her eyebrows. He huffed and sauntered to some shelves across from the cart.

"I wants the ones with batman!" Stiles called as Scott looked over the colourful packs of underwear.

"They don't have any."

"Just get any multi-pack, Scott."

Stiles glared harmlessly at Melissa. He didn't want _plain_ underwear!

Scott came back with a random pack he’d grabbed. Stiles reached up to take a look at them and Scott pointed at the characters. Stiles just frowned at them. "Who's that?"

Scott looked at where he was pointing. "Uh... that's... paw patrol?"

Stiles looked up at Scott, his face wrinkled with confusion. "Paw patrol?"

Scott shrugged. "It's a TV show."

"Oh..." Stiles looked down at the dogs in their cool outfits before he looked back up at Scott, a smile swelling his little cheeks. "Can we watch it?"

"Of course we can," said Melissa as she set down a pair of white sneakers. Stiles grinned toothily at her and held up the underwear.

"Look, Melissa! Theys all dogs!"

Melissa looked at the pack, taking it from Stiles with an animated smile. "Wow! Great pick, Scott."

Scott blushed a little, especially since Stiles had such a grateful smile on his face.

"I think that's everything." Melissa pointed into the cart where she had several pairs of jeans, t-shirts, and socks, a couple of hoodies, and sweaters and a pair of overalls. She held up the sneakers and showed Stiles.

"Watch this," she said, before hitting the bottom of the shoe. The shoes lit up with rainbow lights as Stiles gasped and reached out wildly for them.

"Woah!" Stiles whispered as he smacked the bottom of the other shoe and brought it to life in an array of colour. Melissa grinned at Scott and started to push the cart away from the clothes. Stiles was so distracted that he didn't notice the toys they passed.

Melissa paused at the candy aisle and glanced at her son. "One thing," she muttered. Scott looked a little offended. "You need to set an example. Pick one thing and then he can."

Stiles looked up as Scott nodded and then he recognised the bright packaging around him. He dropped his shoes on the empty seat beside him and wrenched his body around to look at all the candy.

"Come on! Come on!" Stiles said, pushing at the plastic cart to get Melissa to move.

"Only one thing, Stiles," Melissa warned, pushing the cart slowly down the aisle. Scott grabbed a bar of chocolate and dropped it in the cart, winking at Stiles as he did. Stiles looked at where he'd gotten the bar from and pointed at it.

"That one please," he said. Melissa stopped and pointed at the chocolate bars.

"You sure? You can have anything you want, sweetie."

Stiles glanced at Scott before nodding. Scott grinned to himself. He remembered when his and Stiles' mum had to buy the same thing for both of them because they always wanted to have the same. If they were getting ice cream and Stiles had vanilla, Scott would have vanilla too. If Scott got a Bat-mobile for his birthday, Stiles wanted one for his birthday.

Melissa took a chocolate bar down and handed it to Stiles who quickly snatched up Scott's to check that they were identical.

They got to the checkouts and paid for their shopping quickly. Melissa buckled Stiles into the car and handed him his chocolate while Scott put the cart away.

"I have a shift in a few hours," Melissa said when Scott joined them in the car. Stiles offered Scott the other chocolate bar which he took.

"Okay," Scott said as he took a bite from his bar, unaware that Stiles was watching to see how he liked it.

Melissa glanced back at them both, having to look at Stiles twice since most of the chocolate was on his lips. "What are you doing?"

Scott looked at Stiles and then back at his mum. "We have a pack meeting."

Melissa cocked an eyebrow. "And then you'll tell his dad."

Scott shrunk back into his seat.

"Scott."

"Hmm..."

Melissa rolled her eyes and turned back to the steering wheel. She started the car. "If you don't tell him by the end of today, I will."

"I... uh-"

Melissa turned back to Stiles with a fond smile. "Stiles, Do you want to see your daddy later?"

Stiles nearly dropped his chocolate bar in his excitement. "Yea!" he cried, his mouth full of chocolate.

Melissa stared at her own son who was having trouble swallowing his chocolate. "Tell him tonight."

* * *

With Stiles dressed in clothes that didn't smell like mothballs, Scott got into the jeep, with the car-seat and Stiles already installed and drove to Dereks.

Scott was blessed with nearly a hundred questions from Stiles who was still a little too pleased with his flashing shoes.

He was thankful to see Derek waiting for them when he arrived. He waved at Derek and unbuckled but instead of waiting for them to get to him, Derek walked to Stiles' side and hauled the kid out, putting Stiles on his hip.

Scott got out and raised his eyebrows at Derek.

"Just..." Derek started, clearing his throat and glancing at Stiles. "Making sure he's okay."

"Well he is... more than okay, actually."

"Hm?"

Scott motioned to Stiles' wiggling feet and Derek glanced down at the white sneakers. Stiles followed their gaze and squealed suddenly.

"Look at my shoes, Derek! They lights up!" Stiles lifted a leg and gave the bottom of his foot a few hard smacks before they burst into light. Derek seemed unfazed by the display but he nodded at Stiles' giddiness.

"Let's get inside, the others will be here soon and-" Derek trailed off, looking at Stiles who was still watching his shoes. He set the boy on his feet but reached out and took Stiles' hand in a gentle manner that surprised Scott. "It's better we do this inside."

Scott nodded and followed Derek to the elevator. They got to Derek's floor which, to Scott's surprise was much cleaner than it had been. Scott also noticed a new, unopened pack of crayola pencils on the counter and he smiled to himself.

Derek let Stiles’ hand go, though Scott could tell it was a little begrudgingly.

Derek went to grab the notepad and pencils off the counter but Stiles darted toward the window and Derek went straight after him.

"Why don't you come draw some pictures, Stiles," Derek said, gently turning Stiles away from the window.

"I wanna sees how high up we are," Stiles said, looking wistfully back at the window. Scott picked up the pencils and waved them in the air.

"Come on, dude. I bet I can draw a better... wolf than you."

Stiles stopped trying to look back at the window and instead locked his gaze on Scott. He folded his arms. "Nu-uh!"

Scott popped open the pencils and stuck his tongue out at Stiles which had the little boy charging to him and grabbing his leg.

"Give 'em, Scotty! I wanna draw a wolfie too!"

Scott relented after some more teasing and with Derek's help they had Stiles sat at the coffee table, a cushion keeping his butt off the floor. He was leaning over his paper, a pencil in his fist and his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he drew.

Derek and Scott looked up when they smelt wolves below them, while Stiles went on drawing happily.

Derek stood when Issac burst in, his hair messy and his face red.

"Did you run here or something?" Scott asked looking Issac up and down. Issac raised a hand to his brow, stepping aside when Erica shoved past him.

"Yea... I kind of did," Issac said and he shrugged. He stepped toward the couch while Derek stood in front of Stiles to shield him.

Erica sauntered out of the kitchen with an apple. She sniffed and looked up. "Stiles here?" she said. "Issac was worried."

Issac scoffed. "And you weren't?"

Erica glared at him but Derek spoke before she could argue. "He's here but we should wait for the rest of the pack."

"Why? He go dark side again?" Erica asked, taking a bite from her apple.

"W-What? No." Scott shook his head vehemently, glancing at Derek. Erica tilted her head and pointed at Derek's legs.

"Whatcha got there, Der?" she asked with a smirk. Stiles turned his head and saw Derek blocking his view. He got to his knees and peered around Derek's legs.

"Whose that, Derek?" Stiles whispered.

Erica and Issac looked down at the squeaky voice and both their jaws dropped.

"Is that...?"

Scott nodded at Issac. "He got caught by a witch," he muttered.

"No, I time-travelled, 'memeber Scott?"

Scott turned his head and smiled at the small boy behind Derek's legs. "Sure did."

"That's Stiles?" Erica said. Then she laughed suddenly. "Oh this is good!"

Stiles looked up anxiously at Derek, his fingers clawing tighter against his leg.

Derek looked down, smelling Stiles' anxiety. He growled at Erica and she stopped laughing.

Meanwhile, Issac waved at Stiles and smiled when he received a cute wave back.

"What are we going to do?" Erica asked, looking at the freckle-speckled boy. "I mean, unless you wanna leave him like that. He's pretty cute."

"Thank you," squeaked Stiles, beaming at Erica.

Erica srmiked and nodded. "Yea, I like him this way."

"Where are the others?" Derek said with a grunt, putting a hand on Stiles' shoulder to move him back. "Go back to your drawings, Stiles," he grumbled.

Stiles pouted, he wanted to meet everyone.

Erica glanced at her phone. "They should be here, right about..." she looked at the door and waited for the handle to move before she said "now."

Allison stepped inside, followed closely by Lydia and Jackson. Stiles saw the new people and he ran around the couch to greet them on the other side.

Allison glanced around, looking for the small version of Stiles.

"Where is he then?" asked Lydia, also looking around for Stiles, just not the same version. "He had us looking for him for hours."

Stiles came around the other side of the couch and surprised the three teens when he jumped into view. Stiles didn't recognise them so he stepped back awkwardly, his hands settling behind his back.

"Hi," he mumbled.

Derek looked behind him and then across at Stiles and he shook his head, folding his arms against his chest. Stiles turned back and offered Derek a sheepish smile before looking back at Lydia, Allison, and Jackson. He glanced down at his feet and saw his shoes were shining. He grinned and put one forward to show Allison. "Look ats my shoes!"

Allison gave a relieved smile upon seeing him unharmed. "Hi, Stiles."

Lydia took a double take, while Jackson scowled down at the boy.

"What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> These are the last hours of my twentieth birthday... I feel so old.


	5. The Ultimatum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has supported this story so far.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter.

“I was given an ultimatum,” Scott muttered. “Either we tell his dad or my mum will.”

Derek ran a hand down his face. Well that was just fantastic. They just couldn’t deal with this quietly.

“Derek! My shoes!”

Derek finally looked at Stiles, his face grim as the small boy tapped his light-up shoes on the ground for what may have been the hundredth time.

Something in Derek cracked and he plastered a fake smile on his face. “Wow!” he cried in the most patronising voice he could muster. Stiles smiled wide but then it faltered when he realised how disingenuous Derek was being. His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his shoes which flashed for another second before stopping.

“Your shoes are amazing,” said Allison, seeing Stiles’ hurt expression. The child looked up, his lip between his teeth and Allison blinded him with a smile. “Show us again,” she said.

Stiles smiled and walked closer toward her. “You hits them,” he said, stomping a for on the ground and making his shoe light up. “And look! Bright colours!”

“Wowzers,” Jackson said in a mocking voice and Lydia jammed her elbow into his ribs.

“Those are very stylish,” Lydia said, her voice so serious and genuine that Stiles nearly melted before her.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his cheeks going red as he darted around the couch toward Scott, burying his face in Scott’s knee. Lydia watched him with a satisfied grin, smirking at Derek who was looking a little guilty.

Erica was watching from the kitchen with a smirk on her lips, her head tilted to the side. “He is pretty adorable, isn’t he?” she muttered.

“Yea,” said Allison as she reached out and ruffled Stiles hair. Stiles ducked away with a nervous giggle. “So cute.”

“He’s not a-a dog,” Scott said, not at all jealous of Stiles stealing his girlfriends attention.

“No, you’re closer to a dog,” said Lydia in her typical deadpan. Scott frowned again but in his own defence.

Stiles, on the other hand, was staring at Lydia, his eyes bright and his hands clasped out in front of him.

Jackson waved his hands at the boy. “Shoo,” he said as if Stiles was a fly. Stiles blinked before smiling shyly at Lydia and shooting off in the other direction.

Derek stood up as Stiles ran toward Peter’s room. “Stiles!”

He grabbed Stiles’ arm and pulled him around to face him. “Where do you think you’re going?” Derek scowled at Stiles who seemed unfazed. He glanced past Derek at Lydia and Derek shook him again.

“Stiles.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Where are you going? Peter’s in there,” Derek said, motioning to the room Stiles had been heading too.

“See Peter?” Stiles mumbled and he watched Derek with a clearly forced smile to see if he bought it.

Derek just snorted.

“Good luck.”

Stiles glanced at the door before turning back to Derek, his eyes flickering to the people behind them. He motioned Derek close, his hands cupping his mouth to whisper something. Derek rolled his eyes but knelt closer, bending his ear (as if he needed to) so as to hear Stiles’ whisper.

“She’s real pretty,” Stiles said, smiling cheekily when Derek looked at his face. Most everyone in the room had heard Stiles’ ‘secret’ and there were several laughs from their direction and Stiles scowled over Derek’s shoulder.

“What?” he mumbled, his innocent eyes meeting Derek’s.

“What did that little shit say?”

Derek looked back and saw Jackson on his feet, glaring at Stiles.

“Chill out, dude,” Scott said. “Stiles has had a crush on Lydia for like forever.”

Lydia was blushing. Teenage Stiles crushing on her was annoying, little Stiles... well that was just adorable. Jackson didn’t think the same and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“Maybe someone needs to teach him you’re not available,” he grumbled and Lydia laughed then.

“You can’t be serious?” she said and she pointed to the bewildered four-year-old. “He’s a child, Jackson-“

“I’m a big boy,” Stiles whispered to Derek, a little incensed by Lydia.

“-Just leave him alone,” Lydia added, scowling threateningly at her boyfriend.

Derek turned his head away from the teens behind him and offered Stiles a smile. “Why don’t you come and finish your colouring?” he said.

Stiles shook his head stubbornly. “I’m’a see Peter,” he said, turning on the ball of his foot, making the soles of his shoes light up, before trotting into Peter’s room.

Derek watched him with a smirk and he shook his head. “Have fun, Peter,” he muttered, knowing full well that Peter had been listening to everything that had been said already.

* * *

Peter knew Stiles was standing in the doorway, but he continued to read his book. He heard a small intake of breath and the tapping of shoe-soles on the floor. He didn’t even bother looking up when he felt the scrunch of sheets. He enjoyed his ignorance, especially since Stiles was making frustrated sounds at the lack of attention bestowed upon him.

“Whatcha’ readin’?”

Peter looked up briefly at Stiles who was staring at Peter’s book curiously.

Peter shrugged, eying the book. “Can you even read?” he said with an added scoff which only fuelled the indignant scowl on Stiles’ brow.

“I can read,” Stiles said loudly. He huffed, skirting around the bed. Peter looked over his book to see the small boy closer to him.

“What do you want?” Peter asked, his voice cold.

“You has to say sorry,” Stiles said with another indignant pout. Peter lowered his book and eyed Stiles.

“Do I now?”

“Yes. You was mean to me.”

Peter laughed. “When?”

“Yesterday,” Stiles said. “I was drawing and you said mean things to me.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “How cute,” he drawled.

“Mummy says that if you is mean to someone you has to say sorry. Then we can be friends.” Stiles stood with his hands behind his back and a sincere look on his face.

Peter cocked an eyebrow at the child but he didn’t seem fazed anymore. “And you want me to say sorry?” Peter asked.

Suddenly, Stiles frown fell and he grinned. “Thanks,” he said and he started walking away. It was Peter’s turn to frown. He reached out and pulled Stiles back.

“Where are you going, now?”

Stiles looked at Peter with a confused crease in his brow. “You said sorry,” Stiles said.

Peter shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

“You did!”

Peter scoffed and folded his arms.

“You said ‘you wants me to say sorry,’ you said sorry! So thank you, mister Peter.”

“That wasn’t... I wasn’t-“ Peter stared at Stiles who looked back determinedly and Peter just laughed. “Alright,” he said. “I did say sorry.”

“I know. And I forgives you.”

Peter smirked. “Oh, well thank you so much,” he said sarcastically and Stiles nodded.

“You’re welcome.” He turned back toward the door. “I needs to go now, mister Peter. See you soon.” Stiles waved much to erratically for a child of his stature but Peter just waved back.

“Goodbye, kid,” he muttered. He watched the empty spot where Stiles had been for a moment before chuckling to himself and picking up his book.

* * *

“Where are we goin’!”

Scott glanced at the back seat of Derek’s camaro. Stiles looked back at him with a grumpy look on his face.

Allison and Issac had promised and just started a game of hide-and-seek with Stiles who was just about to be the seeker when Derek and Scott had said they were leaving and taking Stiles with them. Stiles was irritable. He had a horrible suspicion that Allison and Issac were playing without him which really wasn’t fair. He was a great seeker and stupid Derek and Scott had kidnapped him before he could prove himself.

Stiles glared at Scott, sticking his tongue out briefly.

“He’s being pleasant,” Derek muttered, having glanced at Stiles in the mirror.

“It’s no fair! I was having fun!”

“I’m sorry, Stiles. You can see them again, I promise,” Scott said and relief flooded through him when he saw Stiles’ face soften.

“Okay...”

Scott smiled. “Besides, we’re going to see your dad now.”

“Really!?”

Stiles kicked Scott’s seat in excitement.

“Yea but you can’t act crazy, okay? We have to be quiet.”

Stiles was nodding eagerly, his fingers fiddling with his seatbelt while Derek turned his head toward Scott.

“Has he replied?”

Scott nodded. “He’s in his office. He has barely been home recently so he didn’t even realise Stiles was...” Scott paused and glanced back at Stiles who was drumming on his legs. “Gone,” Scott finished.

“This is sure to shock him then,” Derek muttered. “What about the pack?”

“They’ve been to the place Peter found Stiles, found a cabin but it’s empty.” Scott squinted down at his phone. “Issac found Stiles’ phone... wait... they did find a vial, but it’s empty.”

Derek’s head perked up at that. “Vial?”

“Yea.”

“Could have residue on it,” Derek muttered, glancing at Scott who just nodded.

“I told them to keep hold of it until we see Deaton. We just... we need to get this over with first.”

* * *

When they got to the station, Scott went around and let Stiles out. Scott looked around nervously, pushing Stiles’ hood up as he checked for familiar faces.

Stiles, on the other hand, recognised the place immediately and he flipped his hood back up, his little legs eagerly taking him away from the car and toward the station doors.

Scott sighed, pulling an excited Stiles back toward him and flicking his hood back up. Stiles grumbled and reached up to push it off his head when Scott grabbed his other hand.

“Leave it, Dude!”

“No,” Stiles shot back, struggling in Scott’s grip to grab his hood.

“Stiles, do you want me back see your dad or not?”

Stiles paused, his lips pressing in a flat line.

“You have to stay quiet and-“ Scott poked Stiles’ hoodie. “Keep the hood up until we see your dad or... o-or-“

“No TV,” Derek said, finishing Scott’s sentence for him. Stiles stood a little straighter and nodded, although it was hard to take him serious with his orange hoody, tiny jeans (with embroidered fire-trucks on the pockets) and his flashing shoes. Oh, and also the fact that his floppy brown hair and baby-features made him too adorable to be serious.

Scott sighed and stood up, taking Stiles’ hand. He glanced at Derek with a grimace on his face. “Let’s get this over with.”

They walked into the station and Scott had to tug Stiles to his side when the boy saw an older officer he recognised. Stiles had opened his mouth to call to the man, a blinding grin on his face but the jerk of Scott’s hand distracted him.

Parrish looked up when they walked in and he nodded to Scott, not noticing the small child clutching the teen’s hand.

“Sheriff’s just doing paperwork. Go on in,” he said, knowing he didn’t need to question Scott’s wanting to see the sheriff.

Scott gave a charming smile and hurried toward the office. Stiles tripped over his feet in an effort to keep up but he didn’t whine, fearing the punishment Derek had promised.

That was until they got within a metre of the Sheriff’s open office door and Stiles recognised the haggard man sat behind the desk inside. If Scott has been looking down he would have seen Stiles’ mouth split into a baby-toothed smile, his brown eyes shimmering under the artificial station lighting.

Stiles’ hand slipped easily from Scott’s and he scampered through the open office door.

Scott was too slow in his realisation and the Sheriff looked up as Stiles barrelled around the desk. Stiles jumped into the light and looked up at one of his most favourite people in the whole world. His smile hurt his little pink cheeks but he couldn’t stop, he just reached his arms up.

“Daddy!”

Stiles stood right before John who had turned his chair to gawp at the child.

“Hi, daddy!”

John stared at the boy. “Stiles?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Safe.


	6. Cold Fries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must apologise, I don’t know what was going on with the spacing in the last chapter, hopefully this isn’t an issue with this chapter.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments. I love writing little Stiles so it’s great to know you guys like him too ;)

“What... in gods name...” John gaped at his small son. He was hit with a pang of nostalgia as he stared into the sweet face of his baby. 

Scott bent down and lifted Stiles into his arms, the boy twisting while Scott smiled awkwardly at the Sheriff. “Sorry, sir,” he muttered. “We were gonna break it to you differently.”

John blinked at Scott before his eyes settled once more on his child. Stiles squirmed in Scott’s arms, swivelling slightly to reach one chubby fist toward John.

“Daddy?” he yelled, pushing as hard as he could away from Scott.

“Sti-“ Scott started, trying to keep hold of the boy without hurting him with his werewolf strength. But, upon hearing his son’s wail, John stumbled away from his desk and reached for Stiles. 

Scott, seeing the identical looks of desperation on Stiles and the sheriff’s faces, gave him up a little reluctantly but Stiles was eager to be scooped up by his father. 

“Daddy,” Stiles said in relief and he armed himself with a adoring smile. “I misses you. I stayed with Scotty, he said I wents in a time machine.”

As Stiles talked John just gaped down at him. Finally Stiles, settled on just hugging his father’s neck.

“What...” John muttered, his arms going around his boy protectively. “He’s... how?”

“Witch,” said Derek. “We haven’t had much chance to look into it yet.”

“He’s a handful,” John mumbled absently, the situation not totally registering.

Stiles pulled back with a grin and he pointed a finger down at his shoes. 

“Look Daddy, auntie Melissa gots me shoes and they lights up!” Stiles reached blindly to smack his shoes but he missed. John wasn’t paying any attention anyway, although he snagged on Melissa’s name.

“Your mom knows?”

Scott shrunk into himself. “Um... she wasn’t meant to if that helps. She kinda caught him in the pantry.”

John nodded. It sounded about right. If Stiles wasn’t in Scott’s room when he was at the McCall’s, he was in the kitchen.

“How do we uh... get him back?” John looked down at Stiles who had started fiddling with his badge. The boy frowned at the words on the shiny metal.

“Daddy, where’s ‘deputy’ gone?” 

John stared at him and then his badge. “Uh...” he cleared his throat and peered at his badge. “It says S-sheriff now, Stiles.”

Stiles raised his head, his eyes wide.

“You’re sheriff in the future!? Wow!” He turned and shot Derek a smirk. “My daddy’s the sheriff,” he said, with the slight cocky hint of teenage Stiles showing through.

Derek ignored Stiles much to the boy’s disappointment. He glanced back at the bullpen with hunched shoulders.

“The pack searched the area Peter found him.”

John’s arms tightened around Stiles. “Peter?” he asked and Derek nodded.

John patted Stiles neck suddenly.

“He didn’t bite him,” Derek said. “Peter actually brought him to me.”

“Uncle peter?” Stiles piped up and all three men looked at him.

“What?” said John. Stiles turned his face up and he beamed at his dad.

“Peter is my friend, daddy.”

John glared at Derek and shifted Stiles onto his hip. “Over my dead body,” he hissed.

“Well, he found him anyway,” Scott added. “The pack only found empty vials, Stiles’ clothes but nothing else, no scent either. We’ll keep looking. I called Deaton and he’s researching. He wants to see Stiles later.”

Again, John’s grip on Stiles grew slightly tighter as he felt an overwhelming need to protect his son.

He eased up upon seeing the understanding look that crossed Derek’s face. “Right,” he muttered. He looked at Stiles before scrubbing a hand across his chin. “I guess I should... take him home.” John frowned. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Stiles smiled, looking back at his father and dropping the badge, his father’s attention was more valuable.

“We can go home!” he said with a broad grin. “We can watch movies, a-and mummy will make popcorn.”

John’s arms stiffened around Stiles and the boy stopped talking, wondering what he’d said wrong.

He seemed to come up with his own solution. “Okay, no movie then. But can we go home? I wanna see mummy.” 

The sheriff wet his lips. He glanced at Scott who’s face was screwed up slightly.

John sighed and reached a hand up and pressed it to the back of Stiles’ head, his fingers stroking the wayward hair.

“Stiles-“ he started with a sad look in his eyes.

“Your mummys working away, remember?” Scott said, stopping John from saying anymore. The sheriff seemed to understand and he gave a quick nod. 

Stiles’ shoulders slumped.

“Oh, yea,” he mumbled.

“You’ll need to sneak him back out of here,” John said, motioning toward the blinds. “Some of them will recognise him, especially Strauss, Stiles knocked his coffee onto his crotch when he was six.”

Scott winced, grabbing Stiles by the scruff of his collar. The boy grumbled angrily as Scott pulled the hood up over his head again.

“No problem, Sheriff,” Scott said, taking Stiles’ hand.

Stiles glared up at Scott, reaching up to pull his hood back but Derek grabbed his other free hand.

The sheriff nodded at the ‘disguise’ and watched them turn away. “Wait,” he called, and Stiles threw him a hopeful look over his shoulder.

“Don’t get into trouble, Stiles.”

“I don’t gets into trouble,” Stiles called back indignantly and the sheriff laughed.

“No, you are trouble. I’ll see you three later, with some good news I hope.” He sat back behind his desk and pulled some files toward him.

“We’ll be at Derek’s loft,” Scott said, throwing a hand up as he retreated toward the door. 

The sheriff watched them go.

Just as he dropped his head a small voice called out.

“Daddy?”

John looked up. “Yea, kiddo?”

Stiles beamed at John. “Love you!”

John smirked, his cheeks going a little red. “Yea, love ya too. Now... go torment Scott some more.”

* * *

“We should see Deaton now,” Derek said as he drove from the sheriff station. Stiles craned his neck out the window, watching the familiar place vanish behind other buildings.

Scott nodded, pulling out his phone. “He might have something.”

Derek snorted, flicking on his indicators. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Why?”

“Deaton’s good, but he doesn’t work that quick.”

Scott pressed his lips together, pushing a huff through is nose.

Stiles turned away from the window in the back and he shifted uncomfortably. 

“I’m hungry,” Stiles announced, interrupting the conversation in the front. Scott Glanced around.

“We’ll get food after we see Deaton, okay?”

Stiles scowled, folding his arms. “Whats Deaton?”

“He’s... You’ll see, Stiles, just sit tight.”

Stiles whined and shook his head. “I’m hungry now,” he whined. He grabbed his tummy and made pathetic whimpering sounds.

“You can have something later,” Scott said, trying to get off the subject.

The car was quiet for five, maybe six seconds before Scott felt a sharp jab in his back. He glanced around as Stiles kicked against his seat again.

“I’m hungry!”

“We’ll be an hour tops, dude. Chill out,” Scott retorted turning back, but Stiles didn’t listen and he pulled his leg back for another kick. 

“Quit it!” Scott snapped and Stiles stopped for a moment before he started to whine.

“But I’m hungry!”

“You’re not going to waste away in an hour.”

Stiles made a high pitched whine that impressed the wolf inside of Derek. The kid could have passed for a howling pup.

“I’m gonna die!” Stiles wailed, kicking Scott’s seat. “I’m soooo hungry?”

Scott turned back to Derek and shook his head. It was then he noticed Derek had taken the wrong turn.

“Deaton’s is that way,” he said and Derek nodded.

“Yea, I know.”

“But you’re going the wrong... where are you going?”

Derek shrugged. “Stiles is hungry.”

The wailing cut off instantly, as did Stiles’ angry kicks into the back of Scott’s seat. Stiles cheered from the back and Derek could see Stiles’ happy little face grinning at him in the rear-view mirror.

Scott gave an exasperated sigh. “You don’t have to do exactly what the four-year-old back there says. He... he didn’t even ask nicely.”

Derek shot Stiles a stern look in the mirror. “Stiles, can you ask Scott nicely to get you food?”

“Scotty, I been real good today. Please may I have some fries o-or a burger, thanks you.”

Scott glanced around, wishing he hadn’t when Stiles’ starry eyes stared back at him, his face scrunched up sweetly. Scott rolled his eyes. “Fine!” he grumbled. “Fine.”

* * *

They got to Deaton’s and Derek lifted Stiles and his portion of Curley fries from the back seat. Stiles shoved another greasy fry into his mouth and munched it as he looked curiously at the vet clinic.

“Where are we, Derek?” he asked, cocking his head at the man.

Derek took a fry from Stiles pack and stuck it between his teeth much to Stiles’ despair. “This guy is going to find the time machine you came from,” Derek lied. Stiles blinked back in disbelief.

“Cool,” he mumbled.

They got inside as Deaton was reorganising a shelf in reception. He turned, looking at each of the three in turn, his eyes lingering on Stiles.

“Stiles,” Deaton said, looking the boy up and down. Stiles leaned into Derek.

“He knows my name,” he whispered, frowning at Derek. Derek returned it right back.

“We told him.”

“Oh.”

Deaton glanced over at Scott as he nodded approvingly. “Well, she certainly did a good job. He’s whole.”

“Whole?” Scott blurted. “Y-you mean... he might not have been... whole I mean.... as in-“

“As in, a lot of spells like this don’t work so well, I’ve seen people come out of it with half a face. Dead too, of course.” He turned and wandered into the back, waving them after him.

Derek and Scott exchanged a grim look before following. Stiles didn’t know what was happening so he went on eating his fries messily.

“Anyway.” Deaton stopped and turned. He patted the silver table behind him. “If you could sit him here, Derek, so I can examine him.”

Derek nodded and went to set Stiles down but the boy clung on, dropping a couple of fries in his struggle.

“No!” he cried sharply. “That’s cold.”

Deaton smiled and reached toward the counter, pulling off a towel.

“Here,” he said, placing it on the table.

Stiles relented, letting Derek drop him on the table. He wasn’t too happy when Derek took his fries with him.

“Hey!”

“You can have them back in five minutes.”

Stiles folded his arms and decided Deaton was to blame so he glared at him instead.

“I thoughts you was the man with the time machine,” he grumbled, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

Deaton looked back at him curiously, glancing over at Scott who looked embarrassed.

“Just... just roll with it,” he hissed. Deaton rolled his eyes and turned his attention back on Stiles.

“I need to check that you... Khm... ‘traveled’ here without injury,” he said, only half understanding what the rouse was. Stiles seemed to buy it and he lowered his arms.

To be fair to Stiles, he sat patiently while Deaton checked him over and only fussed when Scott suggested taking blood which Deaton quickly dismissed.

Derek felt a swell of pride when they were finished and he couldn’t help smiling down at Stiles. He stopped smiling as soon as he realised what he was doing, a blush dusting his cheeks. Stiles noticed though and he raised his arms toward Derek.

Scott leaned against the table while Derek picked Stiles up and Deaton cleared the table. “So?” he asked.

Deaton looked up, his face unchanged. “He’s fine.”

“Did you find anything?”

“I will check the swabs over for any magic residue but other than that I’m afraid not. Like I said before, this witch is powerful to have made this spell work as well as it has. But there are other things we can do.”

Scott looked over at Derek who had Stiles resting on his hip, the little boy’s arms around his neck. Scott could smell Stiles’ discomfort even as he watched Derek rubbing a hand up and down his back.

Scott looked back at Deaton who was also watching Derek and Stiles. “What other things?”

“We can summon her. From what Issac showed me of the hut and Stiles’ well... Stiles, I have a feeling I know who this is.” 

Scott’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Deaton looked at him, his lips pursed. “If I’m right then she’s one of the most powerful witches in the country. We’d have to talk to her, find out what she really wants.”

“And then?”

“We kill her.”

Scott nodded slowly. If it helped Stiles, he’d do anything.

“A witch’s spell dies along with her. Unless of course she has bound the spell through another means other than herself. All witches are able to hold spells or charms and keep them strong by binding them to a piece of themselves. In doing this, when they die, the spell or charm is automatically reversed. However, the more powerful witches are able to bind to things other than themselves so the spell can’t be broken even if they die.” Deaton paused to look over Stiles. “It takes a lot of energy to do this and the reasoning behind it is highly important. I do not believe this is the case with Stiles. I see no reason why this witch would try to bind Stiles spell with anything other than herself. So killing her will reverse the spell. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, she is very powerful and killing her will be extremely difficult.”

* * *

Scott and Derek weren’t feeling much better when they left. Derek strapped Stiles into the back and handed him his fries with an absent look on his face. Stiles huffed with disgruntlement but accepted the food.

Derek slammed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. He winced when Stiles yelled.

“Derek!?”

They turned their heads and Derek nearly flinched when Stiles thrust his hand in front of his nose, a squashed fry clenched in his fist. “They’re cold!”

“And?” Derek muttered. Stiles glared at him, pushing the fry into his mouth but not breaking eye contact. 

“They don’t taste good,” he said.

“They’re only cold, Stiles. We’re not getting more,” said Scott who had already turned back. Stiles and Derek looked at each other with equal frowns before Stiles turned to the window, eating his cold fries still.

“What now?” Scott asked when Derek was back in his seat properly. He put the keys in the ignition and started to pull away.

“We’ll have a pack meeting, start searching for this witch.”

“Scott?”

Scott turned his head toward the back where Stiles had a mouthful of fries. “Yea?”

Stiles smiled. “Where we goin’?” he asked. Stiles snuck a look at the back of Derek’s head but his smile was back when he looked at Scott again.

“Um...” Scott glanced at Derek. “He can probably stay at mine,” he suggested but Derek quickly shook his head.

“He’s staying in the loft,” Derek said.

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s safe there,” said Derek, not taking his eyes off the road. Scott looked back at Stiles who was still eating and waiting patiently.

“He’s safe at mine,” Scott retorted.

“I’d rather keep him in my sight,” Derek said. “That way the pack can meet up at the loft and we can all watch him.”

Scott huffed but didn’t argue further. 

Stiles made a frustrated noise and he dug his foot into the back of Scott’s seat.  
“Where we goin’?!” demanded the small boy and Derek whipped his head around, making Stiles shrink back.

“You’re coming to my loft, Stiles, now shut up,” he snapped.

Derek turned back and the car was silent for a few minutes. Scott glanced at Derek who was watching the road. A sniffle rose from the back and Derek sighed heavily.

Scott looked back but Derek ignored the rising sounds from Stiles and the smell of tears.

They were nearly to the loft when Stiles let out a small cry. Derek turned back and Stiles quickly covered his face.

“Stiles?” 

“L-leave me a-a-lone!” Stiles sobbed and he pressed his face to the door.

_Sulk then,_ Derek thought with a grunt and he turned back to the windscreen. The sniffles behind him though, made him feel guiltier the closer they got to the loft. Scott was on his phone, messaging the pack and updating them but Derek couldn’t ignore the whimpers from the backseat.

When they finally got to the loft Derek jumped out of the car abruptly and circled around to Stiles’ side. He opened Stiles’ door and the boy looked up at him with wide wet eyes. In his hands he was tightly gripping his tub of fries, only a few cold ones left. Scott got out of the front and glanced at the two for a moment before turning toward the loft.

Derek offered to take the fries, his hands gently pulled the tub away. Stiles quickly wiped his hands.

“Do you want to go in?” Derek asked, sticking his thumb behind him. Stiles looked out of the other window at the loft and shrugged. “Work with me, kid,” Derek muttered.

“I want daddy,” Stiles said softly, his head dropping with disheartenment.

“Your dad is coming later,” Derek said and Stiles looked back up at him with sharp angry eyes.

“I want daddy now,” he whined.

“He’ll be here soon. Come with me, we can finish colouring?”

Stiles glared at Derek. “I thought you were my friend,” he said and he crossed his arms over his chest. “But you shouted! Friends don’t shout!”

Derek sighed and tried to smile at the small stubborn boy. 

“I’m sorry,” he said and Stiles’ frown eased. “I won’t shout anymore, okay? Why don’t we go inside now?”

Stiles looked Derek up and down before, and with a distinct grumble that he made sure Derek heard, he lifted his arms toward the wolf.

Derek smiled with relief and scooped Stiles up.

Stiles turned in his arms and gave Derek a stern look. “No shouting,” he ordered and Derek nodded.

“That goes for you too.”

“I don’t shout,” Stiles said, frowning hard as he tried to think of an instance where he shouted. Derek decided not to push anymore and took Stiles into the loft.

* * *

“Scott, don’t go!” Stiles clung to Scott’s pant leg, trying to drag the teen back. Scott could only smile sympathetically as Derek easily syphoned the slippery toddler off his leg. Stiles’ hands were fast though and he grabbed at Scott again.

Everything has been fine until Scott reminded Derek that he had school the next day and that his mum wanted him home. Stiles, who was supposed to be asleep anyway, had held onto Scott with a promise to never let him leave.

“Stiles, he has to go,” Derek said, pulling the boy away again.

“But we’s havin’ fun!” Stiles yelled, his fingers slipping from Scott for the third time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Stiles,” said Scott as he managed to get away, heading for the door. “After school,” he added and Stiles wrestled with Derek’s arms to try and get free but Scott was already out the door. Stiles stared at the closed door before breaking free of Derek.

Stiles ran to the window to watch Scott leave, whimpering to himself as the teen hopped on his bike. Stiles scrunched his hand against the glass as he watched Scott turn a corner and disappear. If he had been paying more attention he would have noticed the sheriff squad car hidden behind Derek’s car.

Stiles turned, his shoulders drooling with a dejected slouch, he didn’t bother looking at Derek who was sniffing the air. He just wanted some more time with Scott.

“Derek?”

“Yea?”

Stiles sat on the floor and tilted his head up at Derek. “Has they found the time machine? I wants to go home,” he whispered, his chin falling into his palm.

Derek didn’t know how to answer and he didn’t have to when the sheriff walked in. Derek glanced around and nodded at John, Scott must have let him in downstairs.

“Where is-“

Derek pointed at the floor beside him and John quickly stepped into view of Stiles. The small boy saw his work boots first and looked slowly up until he saw his father’s infectious smile. Stiles grinned back, scrambling to his feet.

“Daddy!” he cried, stumbling over to John who caught him and lifted him into his arms.

“Hey, kiddo,” John said, pulling Stiles close to him so he could press a kiss to Stiles’ hair. “He been good?” 

Derek just shrugged, watching as Stiles hugged his father tight.

“I missed you daddy!” Stiles said, burrowing his face into John and squeezing as tight as his little arms were capable of. 

John chuckled, pulling Stiles up into his embrace more. “It hasn’t been that long since I last saw you.”

“No, it’s been forever! It’s almost bedtime!” Stiles waved his arms along with his words and John just laughed at his enthusiastic little boy.

“You’re right there, kiddo. In fact-.” He glanced at his watch. “It is bedtime!”

Stiles opened his mouth before frowning down at John’s watch, realising he’d shot himslef in the foot with what he’d said. “No, daddy,” he said slowly. “I can’t sleep without a story.”

“You slept okay last night,” John said. He took a seat on the couch and sent a weary smile Derek’s way. Stiles sat in John’ lap and shrugged.

“Scotty letted me watch movies last night,” he admitted. He jumped back up and his arms circled his father’s neck. “I _needs_ a story from you, daddy,” he insisted.

Derek made himslef busy in the kitchen while John pulled some kind of adventure story from his memory. Derek listened as Stiles interruptions became less frequent. He glanced around and saw Stiles watching his dad with heavy eyes, struggling to stay awake but determined to hear more of the story.

Derek ate the cold burrito in the fridge while he waited, it was probably Peter’s and he’d probably get hell for eating it but Derek didn’t care. He leaned on the counter and listened. When he rejoined the sheriff, Stiles was asleep in the older man’s arms, his mouth hung open slightly as John supported his head and his hands were still clamped in his dad’s shirt.

John finished the story abruptly and started to stroke through Stiles’ messy hair. The boy pressed his lips together and snuggled closer to John’s warmth.

“How did this even happen?” John asked, pausing with his hand part-way through his son’s overgrown hair. He looked across at Derek who was watching his hands which were stuck between his legs.

John released a long breath and said, “I know werewolves are possible, and banshees a-and nogistunes even, but this? Witches?” He shook his head and went back to stroking Stiles’ hair. “I can’t argue against it since my own son is proof.”

“I’m a werewolf and I didn’t know this was possible,” said Derek, his voice bordering a low grunt. He pulled his arms from between his knees and sat up. “Deaton said he’s lucky to be alive.”

John’s head snapped up. “What? He could have _died_!?”

“Apparently when these ‘spells’ happen the victim isn’t always ‘whole.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The sheriff had both his hands curled around Stiles’ prone form, his eyes fierce.

“Deaton knows of people who are only half changed. Some of their body parts are missing or deformed. But Stiles isn’t,” Derek said and he looked down at Stiles who was shifting in his sleep.

John forced himself to take a deep breath, holding his son more gently when he started to understand that his son was unhurt. “What now?” he mumbled, going back to combing his son’s hair with his fingers.

“We kill the witch who did this,” Derek said, his expression deadpanned. John didn’t have a problem with that so he nodded.

“I-.” The sheriff paused, glancing at the small boy in his arms. He looked back at Derek with a sad smile. “I can’t look after him,” he said sadly.

“He can stay here. I’ll look after him,” Derek said quickly but John was shaking his head.

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” Derek retorted, a hard look in his eyes. “I’m offering.”

John fixed Derek with a sharp look but a slight smile graced his lips. “You had any experience with kids?”

Derek shrugged. “I helped my mother with my younger sister.”

“Oh, of course. But... well, you may have already noticed that Stiles is a handful,” John said and he chuckled, shaking his head down at Stiles. 

“He’s a good kid,” Derek said and a small smile crossed his own lips.

John looked up again and glanced around the loft. “Are you sure it’s... _safe_ for him to stay here?”

Derek followed his gaze around. “Safe enough,” he said. “And I’m faster than him. I can also hear everything he does. I promise he’ll be safe with me.”

John sighed, pulling Stiles a little closer to himself before he finally nodded. He gave a small laugh and said, “I haven’t really got much choice. I do appreciate it though. But only until Stiles is himself again.”

Derek nodded.

“I should go,” John said, standing from the couch, lifting Stiles’ sleeping form with him. Derek also stood up and offered to take Stiles.

“You’ll find a way to change him back?” John asked, his voice shook a little with doubt but Derek gave a firm nod. John pressed his lips together. He looked down at Stiles one last time before pressing a kiss to the boy’s head. He handed him over to Derek who accommodated him in his muscular arms. John nodded at the sight.

“You’ll call me if you find anything?”

“Of course,” Derek said, shifting Stiles’ head onto his shoulder where the kid’s warm breath tickled his neck.

John nodded again, feeling utterly useless. He smiled briefly at Derek and his son before he turned reluctantly and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for pushing the sheriff away but Derek has kind of taken charge of Stiles now and I think that’s adorable!


	7. Siren Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters)
> 
> Sorry for the long wait with this chapter.
> 
> I hope this chapter makes up for it.
> 
> Enjoy.

“Okay,” Derek said and he pressed his hands against the table and looked around at his pack. “We need to get Stiles back to his normal age.”

“Duh,” Jackson said and he rolled his eyes despite the glare Derek was shooting him.

“Deaton can help us locate this witch,” Scott said, deciding to ignore Jackson and continue on the discussion.

Derek nodded. “Then we need to take Stiles to her, maybe she made a mistake.”

“I mean, it’s not likely,” Erica muttered and she quickly shrugged when Derek turned his glare on her. “What? She did this on purpose.”

“Then,” Derek continued with a growl. “Then we-“

“Find the time machine?”

The simultaneous turning of heads didn’t seem to faze Stiles who looked up at them all wide-eyed, one of Derek’s shirts tucked under his arm.

“I’m seriously starting to doubt your babysitting skills, nephew,” Peter said and he smirked as Derek turned to glare at him.

He looked back at Stiles and through gritted teeth he said, “you’re meant to be asleep.”

Stiles frowned and walked into the kitchen, going to an empty chair and trying to pull himself up on it. Jackson pulled the chair away from the boy and Stiles looked up and stomped his foot. “Hey.”

“Listen to Derek, kid.” 

“But Derek wants me to sleep and I’m not sleepy,” Stiles argued, reaching for the chair again and nearly dropping Derek’s shirt as he did.

Scott glanced at his phone and he sighed. “Stiles,” he said and the small boy looked over at him with an eager smile. “It’s nearly ten o’clock, dude. You know that you should be asleep.”

Stiles fixed Scott with a funny look, one that Scott almost always gave in to, that look meant trouble. “I did sleep,” Stiles said and he tried and failed to wrestle the chair from Jackson. “Now I’m awake and I wants to play what you’re playing.”

“We’re not playing,” Derek hissed but Stiles seemed to be ignoring him.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.Stiles will love this game,” Peter said and he walked around the table and went to pick Stiles up. Derek was there in a moment, snatching Stiles away from Peter before he could touch him.

He growled and Peter let out a laugh. “Oh, you are so fun to annoy,” he said.

“Derek, I wanna play with you... why can’t I?” Stiles whined, pushing back from Derek’s chest to fix him with a frustrated scowl.

“This is for adults. Come on, you’ve had a long day.”

Stiles shook his head vehemently. “Uh-uh...” He pried his eyes open and used his fingers to hold them that way, blinking at Derek like an owl. “I’m wide awake!”

Derek stared at him for a moment, his face deadpanned before he rolled his eyes. “I see that,” he mumbled and he turned toward his bedroom where Stiles had made himself comfortable.

“Noooo! Please, I wanna stay up. Please please pleeeeease!”

Stiles grappled against Derek’s shoulders, trying to climb away from him.

Scott watched and he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. “It wouldn’t hurt,” he said quietly and the majority of the pack turned and glared at him. Scott rubbed his neck again. “What?”

“Scotty says I can, see Der, Scotty says so, Scot-“

“Enough, Stiles. We’re going to bed. Now.”

Stiles let go of Derek and looked up at him with sad eyes.

“Don’t start,” Derek whispered and he looked anywhere but Stiles’ eyes.

“I-I just w-wa-wan’ed t-to Stay wid’ you,” Stiles said, his voice stammering with his sniffles.

“Wait a go, Derek,” Lydia mumbled and Derek turned back to the pack and huffed angrily.

“Fine,” he said, walking over to Lydia. He put Stiles who seemed to instantly brighten up once back with the others, unceremoniously into her lap. “There, you want him, you look after him.”

Lydia opened her mouth to argue but Derek had already walked away, leaving her with her mouth wide open and Stiles perched on her knees, a happy smile on his face.

He turned his head to smile up at Lydia and his cheeks flushed red. “Hi,” he mumbled shyly, clasping his hands together in his lap.

“Derek,” Lydia started but Derek was smirking smugly.

“See, he loves you. Where were we?”

Lydia glared at Derek as he started discussing their plan. She looked down at Stiles who was still smiling to himself as he glanced up at her every few seconds. He played with the loose fabric of his pyjama pants and he tugged at them and pointed them out to Lydia.

“Scotty gotted me these. Look, they have cats on them.” Lydia glanced at the matching pyjama set. They were white long sleeved pyjamas with navy hems and sleeves, and big purple and blue cats dotted all over them. She slowly looked up at Scott with an unimpressed expression and she raised an eyebrow.

“Cats?” she asked.

Scott stood up a little straighter. “What? He liked them,” he said defensively.

“They all out of wolf ones?” Erica added with a snort and Derek glared at her.

“Are you even listening?”

Erica rolled her eyes at Issac and she leaned over the counter, her chin in her hands. “I’m all ears!”

Lydia shook her head as they went back to their conversation and she looked down at Stiles who was also frowning. He looked down at his pyjamas with a critical scowl.

“They’re great, Stiles,” Lydia said with a sigh and Stiles grinned again.

“Thanks!”

* * *

Stiles could only hack another half-an-hour before he was asleep again.

“In the morning we check the woods again,” Issac said and he looked to Derek for his approval.

Derek gave a nod. "Deaton will meet us there after his first client. He said he had something to draw her out."

"Like bait?

"Yea, Erica, like bait. A bit more technical than that but sure," said Lydia.

"So we'll all meet there?"

"Yes Issac!"

Peter chuckled and turned away from the group and towards his room. "You can all leave now," he added before turning out of sight.

Derek rolled his eyes and went to Lydia. He unfolded his arms and reached to take Stiles and Lydia drew the sleeping child towards her as she eyed Derek. Despite himself, Derek’s lips rose in a small smirk.

Jackson noticed Lydia’s hesitation and his nose wrinkled. “I thought you didn’t want kids,” he grumbled. A blush rose to Lydia’s cheeks and she glared at Jackson.

“What?”

“I’m just saying, you look pretty comfortable,” said Jackson and he motioned to Stiles. Lydia followed his gaze and quickly unwrapped her arms from Stiles, letting Derek hoist the child onto his shoulder.

“Shut up,” she muttered and she got up, glancing at Stiles as he turned his face into Derek’s neck.

Allison stood up too and she took Lydia’s hand. “We’ll meet you tomorrow then,” she said and she smiled softly at Scott before adding, “at the woods.”

* * *

Stiles grabbed Scott’s hand as he hopped out of Derek’s car and he looked up with a grin.

“Daddy says I always has to hold someone’s hand, Scotty,” he informed them as they walked away from the car and he squeezed Scott’s hand.

“Yea, dude... that’s right,” Scott muttered as he glanced around the area, stiffing it hesitantly.

“Peter found him half a mile that way,” Derek said and he pointed to the left. Stiles looked over to the place he was pointing before a squirrel caught his attention.

“So we spread out from there then?” Erica asked and Scott shrugged, pulling Stiles back when he tried to head into the woods.

“Look, a sciril” Stiles said, pointing frantically at the small animal.

“Squirrel,” Peter said in a deliberately slow voice.

“Yea, a sciril!” Stiles cried, hurrying forward only to be yanked back by Scott’s hand.

“Hey, hold on, we need to wait for the others.”

“But-“ Stiles watched as the squirrel dove under some leaves and out of sight. “Oh,” he mumbled and he hung his head sadly.

Scott started to walk and Stiles’ little legs hurried after him. He glanced back to see if his squirrel had come back and his shoulders slumped glumly when he didn’t see it.

“What about the others?”

Stiles glanced up at Erica, squinting when the sun came out from behind the tree branches.

“They can catch up. They’ll see my car.”

“Derek?”

Stiles nearly tripped as he hurried on after them, gripping Scott’s hand tighter.

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek said and he didn’t try to hide his sigh.

Stiles licked his lips. “I’m hungry,” he said.

Derek have an exasperated huff and he turned, stopping Stiles and Scott. “You ate before we left.”

“I only had toast. Mummy makes me pop tarts on Sunday's,” Stiles said in a matter of fact way.

Derek glared at Scott and the teen shrugged.

“You’re going to have to suck it up, Stiles,” Derek said. Stiles’ lip jutted out unhappily as Derek started to turn away.

“Then I want to go home,” Stiles said loudly. “I-I want mummy a-and daddy, they’re not mean like you!”

“Stiles, we’re just going on a hike, remember, I’ll get you anything you want when we’re done.” Scott shot him a quick smile and he glanced at Derek who was stood with his arms folded, just as stubborn as the four-year-old.

Stiles shook his head and he pulled his hand from Scott’s. “This isn’t fun anymore,” he shouted. “I want my mummy!”

“How about Curley fries?” Scott said in a desperate attempt to quiet Stiles.

“No. I wanna go home, Scotty.”

“And we will, we just have things to do. Your dads working remember.”

“Scott can take us to McDonald’s after,” Issac offered with a small smile and Stiles seemed to consider. He slowly took Scott's hand but he stared angrily at the ground.

Peter was watching the scene before him with a grin while Derek rubbed a hand over his face- he really wasn’t good with kids.

Erica leaned against the tree looking half sorry for Stiles and half annoyed by his interruption. She looked over to where they had come from and saw Allison, Jackson and Lydia coming through the trees.

“The search party is here.”

“About time,” Derek muttered and he walked past Stiles to see the others. Stiles watched him with a frown and he slowly pulled his hand from Scott’s.

Once his hand was free he glared at Scott's back for an added bit of satisfaction, just so Scott knew he was annoyed. No pop-tarts... and Scott scared off his squirrel!

As the adults talked Stiles stood behind with his eyebrows low over his angry little brown eyes. He was trying to think up some way to make them realise how annoyed he was.

He could start yelling.

Maybe he could kick Derek. Stiles' face softened then with guilt. No, he couldn't kick Derek, he'd been too nice to Stiles, aside from the pop-tarts.

He could refuse to move. Or insist they went home. Stiles considered those options, but then he remembered that everyone else was much bigger than him, some of them just as big as his daddy, and if his daddy could pick him up, then they could too.

Stiles was still trying to think of something to make the teens notice him when a whispery voice seemed to float around him, like thick smoke. Stiles watched the waves of sound dance through the air in front of him, sparkling with yellow and black twinkles of light. Stiles stared at it as the sound played in his ears. A soft, melodic voice, calling him away.

Slowly, Stiles' arms fell to his sides as the voice and the magic attached to it sent him into a quiet trance. The sound and the cloud floated around Stiles and began to drift away from him and the group.

Stiles stared at it, all ideas of how to get attention from the others was lost and he followed after the sound.

His sneakers lit up as he walked with a steady step, his eyes fixed ahead and his ears listening to the gentle voice overwhelming him.

The others were watching as Deaton's car stopped beside their own vehicles.

Scott, who was completely unaware that he had ever been holding Stiles' hand, let alone that he wasn't anymore, went to greet the vet.

Lydia glanced behind them and she paused, frowning at the spot she had turned to. She did a full spin and her frown hardened.

“Uh... guys,” she said, drawing Scott, Allison and Isaac’s attention away. “Where the hell is Stiles?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Please leave a comment to let me know your thoughts.
> 
> Again, sorry for the delay.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time.


	8. Cursed Hostages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters)  
> Happy New Year!
> 
> Thanks for reviewing, please take the time to do so with this chapter. It means a lot.

"Where the hell did he go!?" Derek sprinted past Lydia and stopped at a tree where he had seen Stiles before. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Stiles!"

"H-he was just here," Scott said and he looked down at his hand, a look of guilt slowly consuming his expression. "Crap."

"STILES!"

Deaton hurried towards them, a drawstring bag in his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Stiles is gone."

"Gone? How long have you been here, Scott."

"Five minutes."

Deaton rolled his eyes and pushed past Issac who was looking around dumbly.

Allison and Lydia were also calling for Stiles, their voices didn't have the booming quality that Derek's did.

"Damn it. STILES!"

Deaton went to Derek put paused when something past the trees caught his eye. A slight twinkling of yellow and black vanished just as he'd seen it and he stared at the spot for a moment.

"STI-"

"Stop."

Derek turned and glared at Deaton "what do you mean _stop_? A four-year-old is missing."

"The witch has him," Deaton said simply and he started walking toward the spot he'd seen the light.

The pack watched him for a moment before Derek snapped out of his dumbfound and ran after Deaton. "What?"

Deaton had tried to chase the sparkles but he was too late and no matter where he turned they didn't reappear. With a huff and a blatant ignoring of Derek, he pulled open his small drawstring bag.

"What is happening?" Issac asked when he caught up and Jackson just shrugged.

Deaton turned and pulled his hand out of the bag with a powder that looked suspiciously like mountain ash. The wolves all backed away.

"It's harmless to you," Deaton said and he tilted his hand. "See. Not mountain ash." The powder tinted an emerald green under the light and Deaton opened his palm out, spreading the powder against it.

"What does it do?"

"As you so kindly deduced yesterday, Issac, it's bait. Bait to catch a witch."

Deaton pulled a flip lighter from the bag before tucking it under his arm. He flicked the lighter and a flame grew despite the breeze. He pressed the flame to the powder and it suddenly caught light, spitting to life in a vibrantly green fire.

Deaton blew the powder into the air and the space in front of them became absorbed in the piercing green light.

The light blinded them all for a moment. Derek was the first to look back at it, despite the burning in his eyes.

He saw what appeared to be a woman, her feet were a few inches off the ground, her toes peeking out under the dress which splayed across the ground in a black and yellow glittery trail.

Derek saw Stiles then, stood to the side of the witch, his hands bound by the thread of her dress, his little fingers caught within the fine cloth which had left small cuts. The fabric was clearly magical and dangerous and from the scratches and abrasions on Stiles, it was paper-thin and sharp.

Stiles was staring up at the witch, his eyes wide and his pupils blown so wide they nearly filled the whites of his eyes. It was as if he'd been drugged. He didn't seem to notice anyone around him but the woman. His mouth had fallen open slightly and his shoes were flashing with the lights in their soles.

"Stiles!" Derek yelled and he stepped forward only to be flung back by a slight wave from the woman. She looked at him with hooded-eyes for a moment before she turned her head and glared at Deaton and Scott.

Scott stepped back quickly, but then, remembering himself and realising Stiles was in danger, he took a brave step forward again, swallowing thickly.

Deaton spoke first. He brushed his hands off as he stared back at the woman. "We wish to speak to you," he said, his voice loud and clear. The woman looked at him.

Scott cleared his throat as he looked worriedly at Stiles.

"Regarding what?" the woman said.

Derek, who had managed to stand up again, was taken away by the angelic tone of the woman's voice. She stared intensively at Deaton.

Deaton glanced at Stiles who hadn't moved. He pointed to him. "The boy," he said.

The woman just looked at him.

"What need do you have for him?" Deaton asked.

The woman narrowed her eyes. "I put that question to you," she said coldly. "What need do you have of a child such as this?"

"He's a member of our pack," Derek said and the woman turned to him.

"This is a human, not a wolf," she said.

"He's still part of the pack. You mess with one member, that's when the wolves come out," Scott said, praying he sounded more fierce than he felt.

Unfortunately, it didn't work quite as Scott had planned. The woman twisted her hand and Scott crumpled to the ground with an agonised scream as his back broke. He yelled into the ground, clenching his teeth so tightly that one cracked.

Allison knelt at his side and he waved her off with a grimace.

"Give me a minute," he muttered breathlessly, his fingernails digging into the earth as he tried to get his breathing steady.

"The hell you do that for!"

Issac stepped forward threateningly but Erica grabbed him back, her head low, scared for her own back. Scott still writhed on the floor, yelling out as his body started to heal his broken spine.

The woman regarded Issac for a moment but she didn't move. Deaton was breathing heavily and he tried to keep his eyes on the witch. He looked down at Stiles briefly who was visibly sweating.

The young boy's fingers were twitching and his eyeballs seemed to shake, trying hard to look at something other than the witch.

Scott growled out in pain and Stiles' gaze finally broke and he looked across at Scott with an anguished look no child should be able to conjure.

"Stiles?" Derek said as Stiles' lips shook. He tried to turn toward Scott but he seemed rooted to the spot. Tears sprang to his eyes and a quiet whimper emitted from his lips.

Derek nearly bit through his lip as he looked on at the boy, frozen to the spot, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and onto his lips. Stiles' fingers twitched but the boy couldn't move, he could only whine and whimper in a way that had Derek's wolf whining back as if it were a pup crying for him.

The witch noticed Stiles' pitiful whines and she turned her finger gently. Stiles' head turned back to her as his whimpering grew louder.

"Leave him alone," Derek said and he took a dangerous step forward, his teeth sharpening and his eyes darkening. "Please, we only want you to return him to his normal age. Do not hurt him."

The witch ignored Derek and glared down at Stiles who had more tears falling off his chin and onto his sweater. "Stop," she hissed and Stiles' lips parted a little, turning downwards as a louder whine pushed through them.

The witch shook her head slowly. "Don't disobey me," she said and she bent her finger under her thumb and flicked it up. Stiles' nose crunched suddenly but his head stayed still. His whimpering pitched up as blood began to cascade from his nose which was turned slightly to the right, a little cut at the bridge of his nose.

"STILES!"

Derek lunged for the boy but the witch swept her hand to the side. Derek was thrown against a tree with a force that left him at the base with spinning vision.

Scott's bones cracked back into place and he sat up, snarling as he did, his face shifting and his eyes glowing red. Deaton looked across at him and pursed his lips.

"What was your plan if she didn't want to negotiate?" Scott asked.

Deaton looked back at the witch who stared at him indifferently.

"I was going to suggest a counterspell."

"A spell? How enlightening," said the witch. Stiles was still whispering, his nose bleeding steadily and the witch turned to look at him. "Silence," she hissed and Stiles tried to stop but the pain was too great and he let out a tiny wail.

The witch clenched her hand and Stiles stopped making sounds, he stopped breathing altogether, his throat compressed by an unseen force.

"Deaton?" Scott said, his voice persistent in his panic as Stiles realised he couldn't breathe and his body started to shake with need.

Deaton stared up at the woman and his brow fell down slowly into a frightening glare. Without looking back at Scott he stepped forward so the witch could see the loathing written across his normally calm features.

"Kill her," he said.

The wolves didn't need to ask twice. They sprang up (Scott took a second to find his footing,) and lunged at the witch. With her one hand squeezing Stiles' throat, she only had one hand to fight her foes.

Issac was the first to get to the witch, he was a sacrifice in order for someone else to get to her while she was distracted by him. She slashed a fingernail through the air and Issac stumbled away, clutching at his torn shirt and the deep laceration beneath it which was dripping blood through his fingers.

Jackson clawed at the Witch's leg, the first thing he could reach and he bit down on her toe, pulling it off in two bites. The witch flinched and smacked her hand through the air, knocking Jackson unconscious at her feet, her big toe clasped between his teeth.

Peter crept behind and clawed at the witch's back but again, she barely reacted. She twisted her neck around to look at him and she whispered something under her breath. The ground around Peter's feet caught alight and his eyes widened in alarm.

He cursed the witch. How did she know about his past misfortune with fire? Or was she just playing dirty? Either way, Peter ended up rolling around in the dry leaves to try and out himself out.

Derek and Scott didn't try to be sneaky and they were simply thrown into the air as if they weren't over two-hundred pounds each of pissed-off werewolf. Derek got right back up but Scott groaned, his back still apparently healing. Derek's claws sprung out and fur started to sprout all over him, readying himself for a full transformation. His head snapped toward the witch and his gaze lingered briefly on Stiles whose lips had started to turn blue. Derek let out a sinister growl and he started running.

Derek lunged at the witch, slashing his claws down her cheek before he was thrown several meters from her.

Derek landed on the ground again, so close to Stiles' convulsing body that he only had to inch over to grab him. Through the scuffle of his pack, he could see Lydia who's shoulders had started to shake. Her eyes darted around and she opened her mouth. Derek quickly covered his ears when the Banshee screamed.

The witch seemed curious by the display and she paused, her hand still clenched.

Derek realised in that moment that Lydia was screaming for Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I wish you all a happier year.  
> See you soon.


	9. Ding Dong the Witch is Dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters)
> 
> I tried to do this early. I hope I'm not too late.
> 
> Please review. I'm not sure if anyone actually reads this which is why I'm never that excited to write so let me know if you're here.
> 
> Thanks.

"NOOOO!"

Derek's eyes bled red and he jumped to his feet. He glared at the witch. Inside his wolf whimpered for the little boy who had stopped struggling. He was just hanging midair.

Derek's face burned with fury furiously and he felt as through his wolf would burst through his skin. When the witch swiped through the air, slicing a neat gash down Jackson's crotch (which seemed to create the loudest scream aside from Lydia's) Derek took the opportunity and he lunged his whole body forward and grasped the witches head and shoulder.

Before she could even move her eyes to see him Derek had sunk his teeth into her neck.

Derek didn't stop with the first bite. He mouth tasted sour as thick blood hit the back of his throat but he continued to tear at the flesh.

Though he'd never fulfilled his threat of ripping out someone's throat with his teeth, Derek had always been capable.

The witch grabbed at Derek, her mouth hanging open as Derek tore a large chunk of skin away and but down on the pulsing vessels and tubes in her neck.

She gasped, a strange mist leaving her mouth. Derek bit again, his teeth hitting her spine. That's when she finally stopped moving. At once Stiles fell to the ground, his throat released of its pressure and turning a vivid red.

Derek released the witch and she fell to the floor. A small swirl of fog ebbed around her and she started to fade into the ground. Her pale skin was splattered with blood and her eyes stared up at Derek, glassy and cold.

"Stiles!"

Scott was the first to the young boy who had fallen on the grass awkwardly. Scott turned Stiles onto his back and winced at the bruising marks around his throat. Stiles' eyes were closed and his body was still. His shoes were lit up, the lights in the soles dancing between blue and green before going dark.

Scott fumbled for a moment, touching Stiles' neck shakily before Deaton took over and felt for a pulse.

Derek spat blood into the grass and glared one last time at the witch (who had nearly finished melting into the earth) before he too turned and ran for Stiles. He fell to his knees at the boy's side just as Deaton started chest compressions.

"He's not breathing?" Derek mumbled but Deaton didn't answer he just kept pumping. He paused and felt for a pulse again before going back to pressing hard against Stiles' small chest.

Lydia stood a little away, trying to keep a scream inside. Her throat convulsed with the need to scream as tears dripped off her cheeks. She watched Deaton pinch Stiles' bloody nose closed gently, opening his mouth and breathing air into him.

He's dying, Lydia thought and she pressed her lips tighter together. Issac had started to whine like an injured puppy as he watched Deaton pump Stiles' chest and then Scott breathe air into him. Allison put her arm around Issac and soothed him as she too watched with quiet dread.

"Come on," Scott mumbled and he wiped his face quickly where tears had started to fall. Stiles looked like he was sleeping, aside from the bloody nose and the red handprint on his neck.

"How long can this go?" Jackson said quietly and he glanced at Lydia who was shaking her head, her fingers pressed to her lips.

Deaton pressed harder and he felt the small body under his palms convulse under him. He pumped his hands again and Stiles coughed before sucking in a desperate breath.

"Thank god," Lydia said and she nearly fell to her knees with relief.

Stiles coughed again and rasped painfully, his eyes scrunching closed.

"Jesus Christ," Jackson muttered as Stiles was helped to sit up. His breathing continued to be laboured as Scott rubbed his back but at least he was breathing.

When Stiles finally got his breath back he looked up at Derek and then Scott before bursting into tears.

Scott was about to offer Stiles a hug but Derek pulled the boy away from him and brought him into his lap. He wrapped his arms around Stiles to comfort him. Stiles worked his hand up to his face and he clutched his bleeding nose.

"Ow, ow, ow," he mumbled between sobs.

"If he's good I'm going."

Peter brushed himself off as he stood, shaking his head at his torn jacket and the blood on his arm.

Scott got up too but he turned to Deaton. "Why isn't he an adult?" Scott said angrily and he pointed at Deaton. "The witch is dead we did as you asked. Why hasn't he changed?"

"It's not always as simple as that. The curse she placed on Stiles may have been one that she had to break first. That's why I wanted to talk to her."

Derek pulled Stiles closer and he looked down as Stiles looked up at him. He pointed to his nose and quietly mumbled, "Derek it hurts."

Derek flattered his palm on Stiles' arm and drew the pain from him and Stiles stopped sobbing. He rested the side of his face on Derek's chest, careful not to touch his nose. He sniffled quietly while Issac joined in the argument with Scott.

"-you told us to kill her! We could have just knocked her out or something and forced her to reverse her spell," Scott said. But Deaton was shaking his head.

"She was going to kill us. That's why she placed the curse, Scott. She wanted to lure you out. Witches are very solitary, if she came here looking for new territory, she'd want it to herself."

"But now he's stuck!"

Stiles looked up at Derek again, his eyes narrow.

"Can we go home?" he whispered and his eyes briefly glanced at Scott and Deaton before he pressed closer to Derek. "I'm tired."

Derek nodded and pulled Stiles towards him, carful not to touch his neck or nose.

Lydia was massaging her temples as Jackson started yelling about how pointless the whole fight had been.

"There's a chance her active curses will be broken soon. Her magic is powerful enough to linger after death," Deaton said as Scott paced angrily on the spot where the witch had been.

"A chance!?"

"Scott," Derek started but the young wolf was shaking his head.

"If you knew all of this why didn't you tell us?" Issac asked.

"I did tell you-"

"No! You told us we were going to bait her."

Allison also looked annoyed and she crossed her arms. "You didn't tell us the implications if she was killed."

Deaton opened his mouth to argue but Derek cut him off.

"Stop!" He stood up and shifted Stiles in his arms. The small boy had started to tremble and he turned his watery eyes to Derek, hiding his face in his chest. "We can figure it out later. I'm taking Stiles to the hospital." Derek looked at Scott sharply. "Scott come on."

"But-" Scott started but Stiles whimpered and Derek glared at Scott. "Right, okay," he mumbled.

"Pack meeting tonight," Derek said over his shoulder as he went back to his car.

Melissa met them at the hospital and after worrying around Stiles who pouted his lips when she touched his nose, she brought them around to the side of the building and through a different entrance.

"Do I want to ask?" she said when she got them to a bed and closed the curtains around them. Scott shook his head quickly and offered his mother a nervous smile.

"Right," she muttered and she turned to smile at Stiles. "Hop on the bed, buddy. I'll get you fixed up in no time."

Derek sat Stiles down on the bed and the boy looked up at him with an utterly pathetic look that made Derek's inner wolf whine.

"Derek," Stiles said, reaching out for him. He looked down briefly at the table and the scrunching paper beneath him and when he looked back up Derek saw tears welling in his eyes.

Melissa noticed and she smiled. "Why doesn't Derek sit with you," she said and Stiles nodded eagerly, patting the paper for Derek.

"Fine."

Derek rolled his eyes despite the appeasement of his wolf as he sat beside Stiles. The boy beamed and crawled into Derek's lap. He craned his neck to grin up at Derek who held the boy still.

Stiles' smile soon fell when Melissa gently positioned his head so he was facing her and she put her thumbs on either side of his nose. His face scrunched up.

"Ow!" he whined, one of the welled-up tears slipping down his cheek and he reached up and grasped Melissa's hands. She pressed again and Stiles yelled loudly, slapping at her hands.

"Sorry, Stiles," she said quietly as she pulled her hands away and Stiles reached up to hold his throbbing nose. He started to sniffle and he leaned back into Derek.

Melissa stood up, looking at Scott and then Derek who was trying to sooth the child in his lap. "I'll need to reset it," she said and she grimaced when Stiles stiffened.

"Great," Derek muttered.

"Mom, what about his neck?"

Melissa looked down at Stiles and saw the angry red marks wrapped around his throat. She saw similar marks on abuse victims or morgue bodies. Melissa knelt down and she smiled reassuringly when Stiles' eyes followed her. She gently pressed her palms against Stiles' neck, pressing carefully as Stiles whimpered. "Sorry," she whispered when she touched a particularly sore part.

"His voice is raspy," Derek said and he rubbed his hand up and down Stiles' back when he started to whimper again. This was the quietest he'd ever heard Stiles, and the whimpering was killing him.

Melissa frowned as she lifted Stiles chin and looked carefully at the marks. Finally she pulled her hands away and Stiles swallowed painfully, wincing as he did. He turned into Derek a little more, looking up at him with trembling lips as if he could take the pain away.

Derek could have hit himself then. He could do exactly that. He'd save it. If Melissa was resetting his nose he wasn't going to let Stiles feel any of it:

"I think it's just bruised. There must be internal bruising too so we shouldn't feed him anything tough. Just soft. And cool things will help. I'll get him some ice chips after I've fixed his nose."

"So... ice cream?" Scott asked and he laughed when Stiles looked across at him suddenly.

"Ice cream would work," Melissa said and Stiles finally smiled.

"I'll have some," he said, his voice croaking on each word and he paused to swallow hard. "And Derek."

"Sure," Derek muttered. He looked up at Melissa and motioned his head to Stiles and she sighed.

"I guess we should get this over with."

"I'll take his pain," Derek said and Melissa nodded as she pulled a stool over and put her thumbs on either side of Stiles' nose. The boy looked up at her with terrified eyes.

"It'll just take a second, sweetie. Remember the ice cream? What flavour do you want?"

Stiles looked worriedly at her thumbs as he mumbled "chocolate," in a painful croak.

"What about double chocolate brownie?" Scott said and Stiles' looked towards him and away from Melissa's hands.

"They do that?" Stiles asked.

Melissa met Derek's eyes and he nodded and pressed her palms over Stiles' thin arms.

Melissa moved her thumbs quickly, the nose between them cracking back into place.

Stiles' eyes flitted back to her, wide and scared and they crossed to try and look at his nose. Melissa pulled her hands away and looked critically at Stiles' straight nose. She smirked at the pained look on Derek's face as the black lines started to fade into his skin.

"Oh," Stiles said and he reached up to touch his nose which made the lines on Derek's arms grow blacker.

"No touching," Melissa said and she rolled back on her stool to grab some wipes to wipe the blood from Stiles' face. She also grabbed gauze and a bandaid.

After a few bandaids were stuck across Stiles' nose to keep it from getting bashed again, Derek let go of Stiles' arms.

"How about that ice cream now?" Scott asked and Stiles, after touching his nose and wincing, nodded and wiggled off of Derek's lap.

"Can we get Curley fries too?" Stiles asked as he took Scott's bigger hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a lot of my story chapters end with them getting ice cream... what can I say, ice cream is healing.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> The next chapter will be the last. Thanks for the support with this story so far.
> 
> Stay safe.


	10. He’s Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters)
> 
> This will be the final chapter. If you're interested in more little Stiles stories let me know. I love having new story ideas especially when it relates to fluff.
> 
> Enjoy

Derek has gotten Stiles an actual meal instead of curly fries. It was still take out but at least he didn't have to watch the boy scoff down fries. He'd gotten him some chicken soup and then the ice cream he'd been promised. He ate the ice cream first and after some complaint he ate the soup.

Scott stayed with them at the Stillinski's house and Derek decided to call off the pack meeting, rescheduling for the next day. After which Derek instructed Scott to go home and rest. After some reluctance he agreed. He gave Stiles a quick hug and the boy turned quickly back to the TV.

Once Scott was gone it was just Derek and Stiles and from the way Stiles was yawning, Derek knew he had a new challenge on his hands. Getting Stiles to bed.

"Not tired, Derek!" Stiles yelled when Derek tried to grab him the first time. Despite their exhaustive day, Stiles somehow had the energy to run around the kitchen three times before Derek caught him and carried him upstairs.

Derek plopped him down on his bed and started changing him into his pyjamas, which was another loud task on Stiles' behalf.

Stiles looked around his bed trying to understand why it was so big. Derek sat down on the edge and pushed up the sheets to cover Stiles' legs. The boy grabbed them and pulled them the rest of the way, grinning toothily at Derek from where his face stuck out of the sheets.

Derek didn't smile back but he appreciated the boy's energy in contrast to having seen his lifeless body earlier that day. He was also relieved that Stiles was cooperating.

"Derek?" Stiles said sweetly and Derek rolled his eyes.

"Yes."

"Are you having a sleepover with me?"

"No."

Stiles' smile fell. "Oh," he mumbled. "A-are you leaving me alone?"

"What no." Derek paused and he sighed. "I'm staying-" he started and he held back a roll of his eyes when Stiles squealed happily. "It's not a sleepover," he said and Stiles sat back, straightening his back.

He gave a sober nod. "Not a sleepover," he muttered, pulling his short legs towards him as he watched Derek seriously. Derek stared back for a moment before frowning and then Stiles smiled.

"So what we playing?"

"We're not playing, Stiles. You are sleeping."

Stiles scowled, his bottom lip poking out. "That's not fair," he said and he folded his arms.

"You're a kid. I make the rules."

"You're not the boss of me," Stiles said firmly.

Derek raised an eyebrow and his top lip curled up to reveal a set of fangs. Stiles stared at them in awe, his arms falling to his side.

"Where'd you get them!?"

Derek rolled his eyes again and pressed his lips closed.

"Can I get some, Derek?"

"No."

"Aw why?"

Derek sighed loudly. "Just go to sleep."

"I want some fangs too," Stiles whined.

"You can't have any."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"But you're not the boss-"

"Don't challenge me right now, Stiles. Sleep. Now."

Stiles glared at Derek for a long moment and Derek wasn't sure if the boy would actually back down. Finally, Stiles huffed and he shimmied under the sheets, mumbling about meanies.

"Goodnight, Stiles," Derek said as he got off the bed and sat down on the floor.

"Aren't you staying?" Stiles mumbled.

"I'm staying right here."

"Okay. Night, Derek."

Derek waited, listening to Stiles roll over and pull one of the stuffed animals Lydia had brought him to his chest. "Night," Derek said quietly.

Derek hadn't meant to fall asleep.

He felt the morning sun on his eyes and he opened them and squinted. He lay there for several minutes trying to collect himslef when he remembered Stiles.

He sat up suddenly to check on the boy only to find the bed ruffled, unmade and empty.

"Stiles!"

Stiles walked in just as Derek leapt to his feet and was about to start tearing into the bed to find the toddler. Derek turned sharply as Stiles came over with two mugs in his hand. He looked at Derek and grinned.

He wasn't the same height as Derek's knee anymore.

"Stiles?"

"Morning, sleepy head." Stiles set a mug on the floor beside Derek as he sat on his bed. Derek sat back down slowly, staring at the teenager as he did.

"What..." he drifted off when Stiles shushed him and motioned for the coffee. He didn't take it, only continued to stare at Stiles.

"It's gonna go cold, man," Stiles said and he pouted as he sipped his own. He pulled his face away from the mug and he looked down at it with disgust. He glanced at Derek's mug as he set his own on his bedside table. "Yea maybe don't drink it," he muttered.

"Stiles?"

"Yea."

Derek sat up and looked Stiles up and down. "You're okay?"

"Yep." Stiles popped the 'p' and grinned. He glanced across the room as the small clothes he'd been wearing the night before.

"Do you-"

"Yea," Stiles said, interrupting Derek. "I'm gonna miss those shoes," he added, looking wistfully at the sneakers by his door. Derek looked at the shows before turning again and staring at Stiles who hid his face.

"Stop, I feel naked under your werewolf vision."

"We can't-"

"Can't be too careful!" Stiles yelled and he wrapped his arms around his middle and smirked.

Derek rolled his eyes and he glanced at the undrinkable coffee. He remembered just the day before that Stiles had been forcing him to make him pop-tarts along with other unhealthy meals.

"So," Stiles said, pulling Derek's attention back to him. "Are we gonna talk about it?" he asked, his words slow and deliberate. He looked at Derek with raised eyebrows and the werewolf just shrugged.

"That's all I get!?"

Derek shrugged again. "What is there to talk about?"

"Um... the fact I was turned into a kid and then back."

"You're still a kid," Derek pointed out in a low mutter and Stiles kicked him. "And you got yourself into that mess. What were you doing?"

Stiles frowned. "You were an asshole," he retorted and Derek felt guilt creep over him.

"Stiles I-"

"Why were you such a sour wolf?"

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

Stiles paused, looking at Derek seriously for a moment before a smile slowly turned at his lips. "You care for me?"

"Shut up."

"That's so sweet!"

"Shut- you're pack, Stiles, that's all," Derek said as Stiles stood up, still smiling giddily.

"If I'm pack why are you so sour to me all the time," he said.

"Because you're human and stupid."

"Only one of those is true."

"You're reckless, Stiles!"

"Maybe because my role models are werewolves," Stiles shot back with a snicker and Derek just shook his head and folded his arms over his chest.

Stiles jumped back on his bed and lay down with his head hanging over the edge.

"Derek?"

Derek huffed, not exactly answering Stiles. He did turn to look at the teenager who was leaning over his bed to look at Derek. "What?"

"Thanks," Stiles said and he smiled.

Derek continued to frown, but with less venom.

"What for?"

"Looking after me. Why do you think my dad is so tired? He had to raise me," Stiles said and he laughed. "Thanks for putting up with me."

Derek shifted, looking away from Stiles and smiling a little to himself. "Shut up, Stiles," he said fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! That's the last chapter. Sorry it's taken so long to finish. I hope you guys liked it. As much as I loved little Stiles I couldn't leave him little.
> 
> Stay safe. Have a great day. And leave a comment if you have any thoughts you want to share.


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